


No Date but what we Fake

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bullying, M/M, Swearing, Team Dynamics, dreadful pun for the title based on Terminator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7212137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the newly appointed Captain for Aobajousai High, Yahaba Shigeru knows he has a tough task ahead. Fortunately, his old senpais are always on hand to give him advice, even when his problem isn't strictly a matter of team tactics.</p><p>Well, he'd thought it was fortunate, but maybe he shouldn't always listen to Oikawa-san's advice ... especially when it comes to soothing the ruffled hackles of his Ace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chit-Chat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/gifts).



> THis is a present for the wonderful Jess (karasunovolleygays) because it was her birthday two weeks ago. I'm sorry this is late, but the idea took hold and I ran with it ... and ran rather too far and fast. I hope you enjoy, Jess, because you deserve it. 
> 
> For the rest of you, go and read Jess's fics because they're incredible as well as being a lot of fun!
> 
> The story is finished, so I'll update at regular intervals.

**April 28 th**

_[20:31]_

**Yahaba:** Hi   
_[20:35]_  
**Yahaba:** Hello ... Oikawa-san??  
_[20:43]_  
**Yahaba:** Um ... Iwaizumi-san? ... Anyone there?  
**MattsunAndChill:** Yo!   
**SassyMakki:** Hey, it’s Captain-kun. How u doing?  
**Yahaba:**   Uhm. I’m well.   
**MattsunAndChill:** How’s the team?

_What shall I say? We’re great. Really. Sort of._

**Yahaba:** Good.

_Safe answer._

_[20:43]_

**SassyMakki:** Games coming up? I guess that’s why you want to chat.  
**Yahaba:** Well, yes, we have practise matches, and then Inter-High, obviously.  
**MattsunAndChill** : Inter-High. I remember it well. Seems like only ...  
**SassyMakki:** Last year. Yes. Our high point  
**MattsunAndChill:** Our pinnacle. *violin music*  
**SassyMakki:** Your blocks were on point  
**MattsunAndChill:** Your receives were masterful   
**SassyMakki:** Oikawa never flunked a serve.   
**MattsunAndChill:** Ah, those were the days. The days we had to buy our own ramen.   
**SassyMakki:** Mean bastard refused last time.

_Oh damn. They’re in reminiscing mode._

_[20:52]_  
  
**Oikawa:** Oi!  I am here!

_Ah!_

_[20:53]_

**Yahaba:** Oikawa-san!  
**Oikawa:** Shigeru-chan. You wanted to speal tom e  
**Yahaba:** Uh   
**SassyMakki:** speal tom?  
**Oikawa:** speak to me**  
**MattsunAndChill:** put the ** at the beginning  
**Oikawa:** What?  
**SassyMakki:** **speak to me  
**Oikawa:** I don’t want to speak to _you_ , but my kouhai wants to speak to me. Isn’t that right?  
**Yahaba:** Uh ... yes. Well, any of you really.   
**Oikawa:** wow, way to make me feel special.   
**Yahaba:** Sorry. I didn’t mean it to coe out like that.   
**Yahaba:** **come  
**MattsunAndChill:** He’s kidding. It’s a group chat. So what’s your problem? *waggles eyebrows*  We’re here to help.   
**SassyMakki:** Oh god, he did too.  
**Oikawa:** He did what?  
**SassyMakki:** waggled his eyebrows.  

Shigeru leant back on his chair, removing his fingers from the keyboard and watched as the messages popped up on his screen. Although when he’d become Captain of Seijou, his senpais had insisted he keep in touch, but he hadn’t expected them to mean it. Because _all_ had promised to help, not just Oikawa, it meant four times the advice, which could be a little hard to navigate at times.  On the whole, he was profoundly grateful because their advice was spot on and valuable. But it had been a long, long bitch of a day, with school projects kicking in and an execrable practise session, and although he didn’t want to admit it, the weight of captaincy was heavy on his shoulders. At times.  

_[20:57]_

**MattsunAndChill:**   I’ve seen you smirk at the screen, just as you’re putting your little - - either side of the word.  
**SassyMakki:** I’m always smirking. Look I’m doing it now –smirk-  
**Oikawa:** *flicks hair*  yes, I just did that.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Dumbass, what’s that supposed to do  
**SassyMakki:** shows he’s a prat.

_One last shot, and then I’ll call it quits._

_[21:00]_

**Yahaba:**   Is Iwaizumi-san there?  
**Oikawa:** I’m not a prat.   
**Oikawa:** No, Iwa-chan’s gone late night shopping.  
**SassyMakki:** Why?   
**Oikawa:** Decided he needed a new t-shirt.  
**MattsunAndChill:** At 8:30?   
**Oikawa:** Well, he says he doesn’t have anything to wear tomorrow.  
**SassyMakki:** What about his twenty other t-shirts?  
**MattsunAndChill** : 50 shades of black  
**Oikawa:** Laundry accident.   
**SassyMakki:** What?  he fell in the machine?  
**Oikawa:**   lol – no. I put some washing on, and ... uh ...  
**SassyMakki:** What did you do this time?   
**MattsunAndChill:** Shrank them?  
**Oikawa:** Ha – I wish. The thought of fabric stretching ...  
**SassyMakki:** Stop right there. Our kouhai does not need to know your thoughts on Hajime’s bod.

_They’ve remembered I’m here then._  
  


_[21:05]_

**Oikawa:** *sighs* My kouhai understands. The whole team understands. It wasn’t that, anyway. I mixed up the bottles and used bleach instead of detergent, so ...  
**MattsunAndChill:** lmfao –Hippie Hajime in tie-dye explosion. Fan-bloody-tastic. I gotta see.   
**SassyMakki:** Pics or it didn’t happen.  
**Oikawa:** too late. Iwa-chan threw them all away. Then emptied my wallet. You’d think he’d be grateful I tried.   


Shigeru drank some his water. It was a toss-up now whether they’d carry on in this vein for hours (which could be fun, but he really wasn’t in the mood) or whether they’d remember he was there and was after advice. A headache that he’d had since practise was threatening to implode, so he rubbed at the bridge of his nose, wondering if he should make excuses and close the chat window. He debated texting Iwaizumi, who’d always give a concise answer, but the trouble was this problem wasn’t only about volleyball.

_[21:13]_

**MattsunAndChill:** Still there, captain-kun?

_Oh!_

**Yahaba:** Yep, I’m here.  
**SassyMakki:** What was the problem?  
**Oikawa:** We’re all ears. Or eyebrows in Mattsun’s case.

_Type fast before they lose focus!_

**Yahaba:** It’s about the team.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Thought you said they were good.  
**Yahaba:** They are. We are, generally.  
**Oikawa:** is it Kindaichi? Poor sweetheart. He really does need to stop taking so much to heart   
**SassyMakki:** Or to his hair. How tall is it now?  
**Yahaba:** Uh ... last stats showed 192cm. And he’s fine. Spiking well and much tighter with his blocks.  
**Oikawa:** Kunimi, then? Look, he _is_ lazy. You just need to realise that and try to motivate him. Maybe promise him sweets or

  
_FASTER!_

_[21:18]_

**Yahaba:** It’s Kyoutani!  
**Oikawa:** pork buns. He loves them.  
**Oikawa:** OH. Mad-Dog. What’s happened?  
**MattsunAndChill:** Oh-oh. I sense trouble. Has he ducked practice?  
**Yahaba:** No.  
**SassyMakki:** Has he thumped anyone?  
**Yahaba:** No. At least, no one on the team. There was an incident with the new basketball captain, but that’s fine and the guy deserved it.  
**Oikawa:** Basketball captains are the worst!  
**MattsunAndChill:** I kinda like them.  
**SassyMakki:** because they wanted to recruit you   
**Oikawa:**   (◣_◢) What did Basketball-chan want?

  
Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know. The basketball team had walked past their gym, just as Shigeru had been practising jump serves. There’d been some barracking and he’d overbalanced, whacking the ball way out of bounds. And then Shigeru had looked up from the floor to find Kyoutani’s hands furled round the guy’s shirt.

_[21:22]_

**Yahaba:**   Uh ... he was just being a dick. Anyway  
**MattsunAndChill:** Did you cough then, Captain-kun?  
**SassyMakki:** definite clearing of the throat as he desperately tries to get us back on track behind that ‘Anyway’  
**Yahaba:** Uh ... yeah. Look. I’m sorry, I don’t have time for a proper chat, but I really need advice.  
**Oikawa:** About Mad-Dog. You’ve come to right place. We’re all  
**SassyMakki:** ears – got it. Come on then.  
**Oikawa:** ears.  
**Oikawa:** dammit I keep hitting send before I mean to.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Never have guessed. ≧◡≦  
**SassyMakki:** Okay, so you have a problem with Kyoutani. He’s practising, right?  
**Yahaba:** Mmm, but I’m not sure for how long. He’s ... I don’t know how to explain, but

And how did he put it? Kyoutani turned up for practise and worked hard. He also saved his anger for the other third years and second years, proving remarkably calm towards the first years, but ... there was something.

**Oikawa:** Telling us would be a start.

_Yeah.Okay, deep breath time._

_21:28_

**Yahaba:** He’s surly.  
**Oikawa:** Rude? He’ll always be that.  
**MattsunAndChill:** yeah, you gotta roll with that.  
**SassyMakki:** It’s like Kunimi being half-asleep, or Kindaichi blushing every time a senpai spoke to him.  
**Yahaba:** No. I don’t mean in the normal way. He’s quiet and unresponsive. And the thing is. I kind of think, in fact I’m pretty sure but I’m hoping I’m wrong,  but it seems to me that it started

He paused. _This is so dumb_

_21:33_

**MattsunAndChill:** spit it out.

_Hell I sent that. I’ll have to finish. Just type fast and it will soon be over. Including their laughter._

**Yahaba:** when I came out. To the team I mean.   
**SassyMakki:** (¬‿¬)  
**MattsunAndChill:** (¬‿¬)  
**Oikawa:**   ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  
**Oikawa:** Sorry, I mean  (¬‿¬)  
**Yahaba:** Um ... why the (¬‿¬) ???  
**SassyMakki:** lol  
**MattsunAndChill:** lol  
**Oikawa:** You ‘coming out’ is (¬‿¬), Shigeru-chan. We all knew. Everyone knew.  
**Yahaba:** What?  
**MattsunAndChill:** 2ru dat  
**SassyMakki:** what he says  
**Yahaba:** How????  
**MattsunAndChill:** Your ass is far too cute to belong to a straight boi.  
**SassyMakki:** what he says –smirk-  
**Oikawa:** Refreshing-chan has a cute ass. Really round and soft looking.  
**MattsunAndChill:** You seriously trying to tell me Sugawara’s straight?    
**SassyMakki:** lol  
**Oikawa:** No. just saying. He has a cute ass.

_Dammit they’re deviating again._

_[21:38]_

**Yahaba:** Okay so _you_ all knew I was gay. But it’s since I came out that he’s been acting odd.  
**Oikawa:** What sort of odd?  
**Yahaba:** He’s sort of ...um ... quiet.   
**Oikawa:** Oh   
**MattsunAndChill:** Ah  
**SassyMakki:** Hmm.   
**Yahaba:** Fuck. He’s got a problem with me, hasn’t he?  
**Oikawa:** Not necessarily.  
**Yahaba:** sorry?   
**MattsunAndChill:** *waggles eyebrows*  
**SassyMakki:** -smirk-  
**Yahaba:** WHAT!  
**Oikawa:** May-be he likes youuuuuu  (✿ ♥‿♥)  
**Yahaba:** WHAT!!!  
**MattsunAndChill:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**SassyMakki:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**MattsunAndChill:** ( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)  
**Oikawa:** ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ   
**Oikawa:** uh ... ◤(¬‿¬)◥  
**Yahaba:** WILL YOU ALL STOP! HE DOES NOT LIKE ME! HE CAN’T!

_[21:44]_

**Oikawa:** Why can’t he? You’re cute.  
**Yahaba:** because I  
**MattsunAndChill:** because you  
**SassyMakki:** because he  
**Yahaba:** STOP IT!

_Fuck this!_

_[21:45]_

**Yahaba:** Okay, I’m going. This is making no sense.   
**Oikawa:** No!  Shigeru-chan. Don’t go.    
**MattsunAndChill:** We’ll stop mucking around  
**SassyMakki:** Promise.  
**MattsunAndChill:** pinky swears.  
**SassyMakki:** We are actually doing this.  
**Oikawa:** Pleaase we want to help.  


He took a breath. Took several. Got up and walked around his bedroom, rolling out the crick in his shoulders, and flexing away the cramp in his thigh before returning to his desk. None of them had left the chat.

_[21:55]_

**Yahaba:** Kyoutani doesn’t like me. Not like that.  
**Oikawa:** How do you know?   
**MattsunAndChill:** Is it that you don’t want him to like you?  


Shigeru sipped some more water, inhaling again as he tried to clear the thoughts muddying around his brain. Was Matsukawa right?  He summoned up an image of Kyoutani. Snapping and snarling as he fired off serve after serve, strolling over to the opposite side of the court to pick up the balls. Not leaving everything to their kouhais as was expected.   
Rolling up the sleeves on his t-shirt ...  
He shook his head.

_[21:58]_

**Yahaba:** Look, it’s simply that I don’t want there to be a problem. Things were fine until I made my speech, and now they’re not.

He swallowed. He’d wanted to tell the team, had hoped with a spirit of openness, they might accept him as Captain and feel inspired. Oikawa still cast a long, long shadow and Shigeru had thought that by being honest, by sharing, they’d all realise his commitment and know that he’d grown.

_Hell, they’ve gone quiet._

_[22:06]_

**Yahaba:** Do you think Kyoutani’s homophobic? Do you think that this is too much for him? Should I have kept my mouth shut?   
**MattsunAndChill:** Stop that.   
**Yahaba:** What if I’ve screwed up the team?   
**SassyMakki:** You did what you thought was for the best.

_[22:08]_

**Yahaba:** Maybe everyone has a problem.   
**Oikawa:**   No. Doubt it. Maybe. You haven’t. And no, they haven’t.  
**Yahaba:** What?  
**Oikawa:**  Those are the answers to your questions. Right, I need to think.  
**MattsunAndChill:** could be here a while. I’m going for a slash.  
**SassyMakki:** I’ll make coffee. Biab

Staring at the screen, Shigeru shifted uncomfortably, seriously doubting the instinct that had made him start the chat. Kyoutani could well have a problem, but what he needed was to clear the air, make sure they were still on the same page. For the team.  Obviously.

_[22:08]_  
  


**Oikawa:** Got it!

_That was quick._ Smoothing one hand though his hair, Shigeru leant forwards.

**Yahaba:** I should have it out with him, shouldn’t I?  
**Oikawa:** Hmm, awkward, though, especially when it’s already out in the open. I mean if he thinks you think he’s prejudiced and he isn’t, then he’s going to be insulted. But if he thinks you think he’s prejudiced and he is, then _you’ll_ be insulted. Impasse!

He slumped back in his chair. What the ... This was too complicated.

_22: 11_

**Yahaba:** I’m screwed.  
**Oikawa:** have faith in your senpai. I do have the solution.  
**Yahaba:** Hmm?  
**Oikawa:** Two words.  
**Yahaba:** Which are?  
**MattsunAndChill:** Strap on dildo  
**SassyMakki:** That’s three words.  
**MattsunAndChill:**   ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )  
**Oikawa:** Stop that.  
**MattsunAndChill:** is that the two words.  
**Oikawa:** shut up.   
**SassyMakki:** Or them.  
**Yahaba:** GUYS PLEASE!  
**Oikawa:** Fake Dating.  
**Yahaba:** uh ... is that the two words?  
**Oikawa:** Yes  
**MattsunAndChill:** hahahahahhahahahahah pml pml pml   
**SassyMakki:** no fucking chance.  
**Yahaba:** I don’t understand. What are you on about?  
**Oikawa:** Fake dating. You ask Mad-Dog for a favour. Tell him you need a date. That you’re asking him because you trust him – trust is very important to Mad Dog and he’ll lap that up –if he says yes, then you know he doesn’t have a problem with you being gay.   
**Yahaba:** But   
**Oikawa:** There’s no but, Shigeru-chan. The plan is perfect.

He stopped. This was too odd. Oikawa was making absolutely no sense. He tried again.

_[22:16]_

**Yahaba:** What date? Where would we go?  
**Oikawa:** Oh, no, you don’t actually have to go on a date. Just ask him if he’d be up for it, then if he agrees, you can make an excuse later.  Say it was great of him to offer, but the situation’s resolved.  
**Yahaba:** Oh. I guess I could.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Don’t want to piss on your parade.  
**SassyMakki:** You can’t. You pissed just now.  
**MattsunAndChill:** So cute – NOT.    
**MattsunAndChill:** I don’t get why Yahaba would need a fake date. Like, it’d make more sense if he were asking a girl to pretend to be going out with him.   
**SassyMakki:** he’s got a point.  
**Yahaba:**  Shit.  
**Oikawa:** Not at all! Tell Mad-Dog you have troublesome fans. Pretend you’ve inherited my fan club and they’re persistently trying to snare you. Say they’re trying to turn you, and you hate the distraction.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Oh ... kay. I like it.  
**SassyMakki:** Could work.  
**Yahaba:** Really?  What if he says no?  
**Oikawa:** 1) I don’t think he’s prejudiced. 2) what have you got to lose? 3   
**Yahaba:** 3?  
**SassyMakki:** Yeah what is 3?  
**MattsunAndChill:** He doesn’t know. There is no three. You were trying to do a heart, weren’t you?   
**Oikawa:** 3) you’ll bond over it.    
**Oikawa:** Trust me. It worked for your two favourite senpais.  <3

A smile twitched at Shigeru’s lips. He could practically hear Hanamaki urging him on and see his hand on Matsukawa’s shoulder as the latter hovered over his iPad waiting for the response.

_I’m going in._

**Yahaba:** Mattsun and Makki got together through fake dating? I didn’t know that, guys!  
**Oikawa:** NO! It was me and Iwa-chan.  
**SassyMakki:** Bwahahahahahahahahaha, Shots fired!  
**Oikawa:** Your proper senpais!  
**MattsunAndChill:**   ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з= ( ▀ ͜͞ʖ▀) =ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

***  


The chat deteriorated after that, with Oikawa closing the window when Iwaizumi returned, and without their former Captain to bate, both Matsukawa and Hanamaki started to yawn, complaining they needed an early night. Thanking them all, Shigeru turned off his laptop, and tried to digest the information.

_It’s a dumb idea._

_Will never work._

In the shower, as the water cascaded over his body and the soapsuds lathered on his skin, he made a plan that did not involve – would never involve- something as convoluted as a suggested fake date. A date so fake they’d never even get there. It was pathetic. A stupid plan. And he’d have no part of it. Instead, he resolved to catch Kyoutani on his own and talk it through before registration.

Like sensible people.

No games.

A sensible conversation between teammates.

Sensible seventeen year old teammates who only wanted to work together to get a team to nationals.

Just because they were his senpais, it didn’t mean they were right.

Mind made up, he stepped out of the shower, wound a towel around his waist, then headed back to his bedroom. The vague conflict and then the subsequent chat regarding the conflict, had made his head buzz, and although the headache had gone, he was drained of any further sentient thought.

_I’ll sort it out tomorrow._

_Sensibly._

 

Morning arrived.  Shigeru woke with the sun already screaming through his window, and the plan in his mind was a groggy blur as he hurried into the kitchen, snatching breakfast in the form of a cereal bar and a flask of black coffee.

“Have you seen your hair?” his mum shouted after him as he fled the brush in her outstretched hand.

“I know. I slept on it damp. I’ll sort it out at school!” he shouted back as he skeltered down the path struggling into his blazer as he ran.

Scraping into school as the bell rang for registration, Shigeru looked around for Kyoutani, but he was nowhere to be seen.

_First break,_ he thought and settled at his desk, ignoring the giggles over his wayward hair.

 

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hmm?” Shigeru blinked, the figure in front of him coming into focus. “Ah, Shinji. What?”

“Just asked how you were,” Watari murmured, his eyes flicking to their sensei. “You look ... uh ... ruffled.”

“My _hair_ is ruffled. I’m fine.”

“You were very late.”

“Mmm, slept through my alarm.”

“Ah ... good. I was ... uh ... worried.”

“Worried? Why?”

“You were kind of quiet after practice,” he hissed.

“Was I?”

“Uh...” Watari nodded quickly, then jerked his head down, directing his attention back to his textbook. Glancing up, Shigeru caught their sensei’s eye, and smiled at her.

“Anything wrong, Yahaba-kun?” she rapped.

He continued to smile, remembering some old advice of Oikawa’s to behave as if you weren’t guilty of anything in the slightest. “Misplaced my pen, sensei,” he replied blandly. “I must have left it at home.” He bowed his head in apology, before looking up at her from beneath his lashes.

She made a sound like a ‘hmmph’ then the next minute chicaned her way through the desks to place a pen in front of him. Her glasses slid down the end of her nose as she peered at him, but she made no attempt to push them back, instead pursing her lips as she perused him.

“Not as _soigné_ as usual,” she said. “Too many light nights, or are you worrying that pretty head over something, Yahaba-kun?”

He cast his eyes up to her face, letting his smile falter. “It won’t happen again.”

“Not in my class unless you wish to get detention for a week,” she agreed. “ _Concentré, mon petit!_ ”

Chastised, Shigeru kept his head down for the rest of class. Next to him, Watari appeared similarly intent on his work, until the teacher’s back was turned and he rapidly doodled a sad face on his book, mouthing a sorry.

‘It’s okay,’ Shigeru scribbled back.

‘Talk at break?’

He nodded, remembering too late that he really needed to sort out the situation with Kyoutani.  _Bugger it! Have to be lunchtime._

 

Midday practise on a Thursday was always a rushed affair. The first years would arrive, already in kit as they’d had PE, followed by the third years. It was the second years who generally arrived late, Kindaichi rushing from a science class and Kunimi ... well, Kunimi never rushed anywhere but would amble in, dropping his kit bag to the floor and murmur an apology.

Thursday was the day in the week when Shigeru started to fray. The day of the week where he had to concentrate on holding it together and not yelling at everyone. The trouble with Thursday was that Coach Irihata had a staff meeting and Mizoguchi-san was in charge. His yelling not kept in check, Shigeru found himself torn between defending his team and yelling at them more.

This particular Thursday was not helped by him arriving with Watari to discover Kyoutani already there.

He was not in a sunny mood. Hell, he was never in a sunny mood. Although Watari swore on every volleyball god available that he’d seen Kyoutani smile once, Shigeru didn’t believe him. Kyoutani’s scowl was so permanent, he gave a truth to the old adage of the expression stuck when the wind change. A frown so deep, Shigeru thought it must have been tattooed. In his lighter moments, he wondered if Kyoutani’s expression was painted on like his eyeliner. In much lighter moments, Shigeru pondered the possibility of Kyoutani being able to smile and wondered if his face would crack.

Not that he’d ever mentioned it.  He knew the quickest way to losing his ace was mockery. Oikawa had been able to get away with that, but even then, his brand of piss-taking was only successful with Iwaizumi because of the trust and history they shared.

_We don’t have their connection,_ he thought, and chewed the side of his mouth. _We don’t even like each other. Our history is arguments, silence and loss._

But staring at the fierce boy, watching as he barged his way through the first years, picking up a ball and slamming it across to the far side of the court, avoiding, by a whisker, Kindaichi as he dashed in, Shigeru knew he had to try something.

“Hey,” he said, wandering over, hands in his pockets as he affected a nonchalance he didn’t quite feel.

Kyoutani whipped his head around, his frown deepened (Shigeru hadn’t thought that was possible) and he picked up another ball, bouncing it on the floor.

“How are things?” Shigeru asked, and tried a smile.

“What’s it to you?”

_Fuckwit._

“I’m the captain concerned for the welfare of my team,” he said though gritted teeth.

“Then I’m fine.” He twirled the ball between his fingers.

“Kindaichi nearly isn’t.”

“What?”

“That serve. You nearly had his head off.”

“He’ll get worse on court,” Kyoutani muttered, looking sullen.

_He’s got a point._

“Possibly, only ... uh ...” Time to try a joke. He grinned and screwed up his nose. “Not great going out under friendly fire.”

“Huh?”

“Or not so friendly,” Shigeru said, and turning it into a cough, he walked away.  _Fuck him. This is impossible._

But the thing was, he couldn’t tell if Kyoutani was being extra aggressive, or if this was merely the norm.

And of course, the lunchtime session being short there was no time for a chat, especially as Kyoutani’s mood appeared to worsen when Watari, finishing receive practise, turned his attention to setting, laughing with Shigeru as they tossed to the Wing Spikers.

“Another day, another sulk,” Watari mused, eyebrows raised as Kyoutani stalked out of the gym. “Do you really think he’ll stick around?”

“I hope so, but ...” Shrugging, Shigeru cast his eyes on the squad, now trooping out of the changing room, to a man dutifully thanking the coach for his time. The new crop of first years were good but hadn’t blended. And Shigeru knew this was partly his fault. He didn’t have Oikawa’s perception, that quick way of his at pinpointing strengths and weaknesses, the ease with which he conjured solutions.

“I’m wondering-” he began, then stopped.

“Hmm?”

“Do I need to clear the air with him?”

Watari pulled a face, elongating his mouth into a grimace and baring his teeth. “Uh... not sure.”

“You’ve noticed, though?”

“Noticed what?”

“Oh, come on!” Shigeru bent down and unpicked the lace on his trainer, pulling it off before starting on the other. “He’s been off with me since-”

“Oh, that!” Watari huffed out his cheeks. Pulling off his training top, he sniffed at his armpits then reached for a can of deodorant.

Shigeru coughed as the spray misted around him, his mouth and nose now tasting of whatever revolting sports fragrance Watari had chucked in his bag. “Do you mind?” he spluttered.

“Sorry, I was kind of hoping to sit with Ishigawa-kun in science. Don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

“Mmm, sure she’s going to love sitting next to someone who stinks like a perfume store.”

Snorting, Watari pulled on his shirt, buttoning it to the top, before fishing his already tied tie out of his bag and looping it around his neck. “Has to better than volleyball sweat. Anyway, I now have a hot date with the cafeteria. See you in there?”

Shigeru shook his head. “Packed lunch. Think I’ll sit outside for a while.”

“Cool.”

“So, should I speak to him about ... you know?”

He screwed up his face. “I’d forget about it if I were you. Sometimes raking over that sort of stuff is the worst thing you can do. Embarrassing for both of you.”

_Hadn’t thought of that. Okay, maybe I just need to be matter of fact about it._ “I need to do something, don’t I?”

“Well yeah, but ...” he clicked his tongue, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. “Look, Shigeru-kun, he’s tricky, I know, but what you need is some kind of communality. Oikawa-san said he’d make him part of a winning team. Mad-Dog responded to that. Whatever he says – or rather snarls – he wants to play and he likes being a part of this. Or he did. Maybe he ...”

“What?”

“Maybe he wants to be trusted?” Watari replied, raising his palms skywards. “I dunno. He has that vibe of the edgy outsider, but he gets stuck in, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, you could be right.”

When Watari left, Shigeru sat back on the bench, tilting his head back as he stared at the ceiling. There was a crack fanning out from the light, one he’d noticed when he’d first started at Aobajousai. Over the break, it had been painted over and it was only when he squinted that he knew it was still there.

_Beep boop._

His phone lit up, and he sighed reading the message.

**< <Have you made your date yet, Shigeru-chan?>>**

**< <Oikawa-san, hi. No. I’m not sure I will.>>**

He could hear the tut all the way from Tokyo.

**< <Faint heart never won a fair lady, or a scowly Mad Dog in this case.>>**

It’s not that I’m not grateful, he started to type, but as he was about to continue, he heard a door slam and the squeak of footsteps across the gym floor.

Of course it was him. Kyoutani Kentarou stormed into the changing room, face a little pink and coming to an immediate halt when he saw Shigeru.

“Forgot something,” he muttered.

“Oh.” Sliding his phone back in his pocket, Shigeru got to his feet. “Can I help?”

“Uh... no ... it’s fine... I’ll ...” He span around, his hands sweeping along the benches. “Come on, you fucker. Where the fuck are you?”

“Kyoutani?”

“What?” he snapped, his eyes now darting across the room. “Fuck, where is it? I was sitting there.”

“What have you lost?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It clearly does. What is it?”

He straightened up, glared at Shigeru, then twisted his mouth into a grimace. “It’s a ring, all right? I took it off.”

_Ring? Oh ... yeah..._ “You usually tape that up, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well, couldn’t find any tape so I took it off, and now, it’s fucking fallen out somewhere.”

“Definitely in here?”

“Yeah.” His voice was punchy, his tone belligerent.  “I took it off in here and put it in my blazer. Inside pocket.”

“And it’s not in there now?”

“Do I look fucking stupid? I might be class one, you fucker, but I do know how to check my fucking pockets!” he yelled, then tearing off the blazer he bundled it into a ball and threw it across at him. “Go on, you check the fucking thing!”

He wasn’t sure how he kept his face straight, but he knew both Matsukawa and Hanamaki would have been inordinately proud of him, because not only did he not laugh, he also didn’t take the ‘fucking blazer’ and smush it in Kyoutani’s ‘fucking face’. Instead,  he made a show of holding up the blazer, and brushing it down.  Then he stepped a little to the side, and made an extravagant gesture to the coat peg he’d been sitting in front of.

“Ta-da!” he declared, and gave a bow. “And for my next trick, I shall make Kindaichi appear in a bunny costume!”

“Huh?”

“Wrong blazer,” Shigeru explained, trying his level best not to smirk. “You must have picked up mine.”

“Oh.” He shuffled forwards, stretched out his arm and unhooked the blazer from the peg. Then, after checking the pocket, he pulled out the ring, slipping it on his middle finger. “Yeah, that’s it. Uh ... thanks. Sorry, this one’s new and I’m kind of not ... um ...”

“Used to it. Yes, I know. Mine was new for this year, too.” He smiled at Kyoutani, wondering if this was communality enough, but Kyoutani didn’t respond.

_Idiot, bonding over a blazer, like that’s going to happen._ And yet he hadn’t moved away. He’d not left the changing room and it struck Shigeru now that this was the first time in a while – perhaps ever – that they’d been alone.

“Thanks,” Kyoutani muttered again. “I owe you.”

“You mean if I mix up my blazer with yours you’ll facilitate the exchange,” Shigeru replied, his lips twitching.

He didn’t scowl. “You make it sound like a hostage exchange,” he said. Then he shrugged. “Offer’s still there, Yahaba. Ring’s kind of important, so I’m pleased I got it back.”

  _It’s not like I helped him particularly. So ... he must want to do me a favour. Wants me to trust him, maybe?_

“Do you mean that?”

“Yeah...” Kyoutani’s eyes flickered warily. “I’m not – ”

_Ah, here it comes._

“Treating you to ramen for a year. Don’t have that much dosh.”

_Oh..._

“So ... anything else. Just ... um ... yeah.” He shifted his feet, then as if remembering the reason he’d reappeared in the gym, he grimaced at his blazer, stretching his arms into it.

_Okay, it’s either clear the air or ask a favour time. Which one?_

The crack in the ceiling was barely visible, and no one would advise picking off the paint.

“Uh, there is something actually,” Shigeru called out.

“Okay.” He finished with his blazer, not bothering to button it up. “What is it?”

“It’s a bit odd, and ... uh ... you’re free to say no, but I’m in a bit of a fix.”

“Go on.”

“So, um, right, yeah.” Shigeru bit his lip, fighting an insane urge to giggle at his ineloquence. From where he stood, he caught Kyoutani’s expression – curiosity mixed with a ‘what the fuck’ – and he furled his hand into a fist in an attempt to fortify himself. “You know I’m gay, right.”

“Well, derr,” Kyoutani muttered, making his eyes look goofy and dropping his jaw. “Think I clocked that in first year.”

_Really? Okay, he doesn’t sound hostile, it’s his normal belligerence._

“And ... um ... it’s like this. There’s one or two really persistent girls in the cheer squad and ... uh ... like ... they’ve convinced themselves that because I’m single I must be looking for a girlfriend, and ... uh ... like I’ve hinted I’m gay, but Ishigawa-kun has kind of decided that I’m ... uh ... not  because none of them have seen me with a boy, and um ...”

_Why the fuck did I mention Ishigawa? Shinji’s gonna kill me._

“You’re single?”

“Mmm.”

“Why haven’t they seen you with a boy?”

“Well, probably because I’ve not been with one,” Shigeru explained, his cheeks flaming a little under Kyoutani’s scrutiny. He licked his lips. What would Oikawa-san do?  He asked himself. The reply came within seconds. He’d embroider, obviously. “I can’t walk down the corridor without hearing whispers. Watari tells me they’re running a book.”

“So, what, you want me to threaten them or something?” he asked, puzzled. “Only ... I don’t threaten girls, Yahaba. That’s really not a good thing to do. I could threaten their brothers if that helps, but I’m not happy about it. I guess I promised, though, so-”

“Ah, no, no threats needed. Just ... uh ... they – the girls I mean - might lose interest if they ... um ... see me with someone? Like ... a date?”

Okay, let it sink in. Check his expression for any kind of recoil. _Uh, is that flinch?_

“A fake date, I mean. I need someone who will ... um ... pretend, just for a while. One date, that’s all. Or ... uh ...if I could just pretend I have a crush on you?” he said, thinking on the spot.

Kyoutani’s scowl lessened. A little. He still resembled a particularly angry Angry Bird, but one not about to peck or claw. “Why me?”

“Uh ... you’re here?” he said, then winced. Bad answer. Not the way to engender trust. “Um, basically, I think you’re the only one I can ask.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I’d ask Watari but he’s trying to get a girl in science class to notice him, and I don’t think dating me is the sort of notice he wants. I mean, I could ask Kindaichi or Kunimi, but ... uh ... Kindaichi’s kind of ... you know I’m not sure he’d believe it was fake. And Kunimi’ll just say no. He’d be a shit boyfriend, don’t you think?”

‘How the fuck would I know?’ Kyoutani’s expression read. But he hadn’t recoiled. He hadn’t stomped off. He hadn’t said no. More pertinently, he hadn’t shoved his fist in Shigeru’s face.

“Guess I could,” he muttered.  “What do you want me to do?”

The relief was so palpable within him that Shigeru was surprised he hadn’t melted into a puddle of goo on the changing room floor.  He heard an odd sound and realised he’d laughed, so clamped his mouth shut. “I ... uh ... don’t really know. I’ve never been on a date, so I’m sort of ... um ... I’m really not sure ... how ... this is ... uh ... done. It’s ... um ...” _Fuck I’m waffling. And why is he staring at me? Idiot, of course he’s staring at me. I’m making no sense. Pull yourself together,  dumbass!_

He cleared his throat. “I don’t mind if we just pretend I’ve got a crush on you. Like ... unrequited?” He readied himself for Kyoutani asking what unrequited meant, but when the boy’s frown deepened, it wasn’t due to confusion.

“So you don’t want an actual date?” He made it sound like an insult.

“Uh, well, I didn’t really... I mean, it would be fake, anyway, so it’s not like any of it would ... uh ... be real ... just...”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m not a dumbass,” Kyoutani snapped. He shoved his hands in his pockets, glowering at the floor.

“I’d hate you to feel ... um ... awkward?”

“Awkward?”

“Compromised. Like ... uh ... if we do go on a date where everyone can see us, then it kind of outs you, doesn’t it.”  Okay, now was the time to reel this in, to thank Kyoutani profusely for his help, but he could handle it by himself. Maybe he could suggest they hang out anyway... _Wow, where did that thought come from?_

“Like I give a fuck what people think,” Kyoutani growled. And then he sighed, and it was as if he’d been holding all his breath in his shoulders, because they sloped downwards and he suddenly looked taller, broader, and far less angry. “You’re regretting asking me already, aren’t you, Yahaba?”

“Not at all.” How he stopped the stammer emerging, Shigeru had no idea, but it had something to do with ramming his tongue against his teeth, making his voice sound thick. He sniffed, then sniffed again, giving himself time as his mind leapt lightening fast from option to option.

Tell him it was fake - more fake than he’d initially let on – and he risked Kyoutani storming out, pissed at him for ... taking the piss.

“Tomorrow,” he rasped. “We could sit together in the cafeteria.”

Kyoutani’s thin eyebrows practically disappeared into his forehead and he snorted. “Two teammates hanging out like bros. As bros do. No homo.”

And the joke was so unexpected, delivered deadpan, and his eyes boring into Shigeru’s that he utterly failed to stop the flush on his cheeks and the ripple of laughter that erupted from his throat. “Maybe more than that,” he said, feeling light, lighter than he had for days.  “Out of school. There’s a cafe a lot of the girls go to.”

“The cat one, right?” Kyoutani sounded resigned. “Fine.”

“Oh... hold on...”  _Can’t go there. Ishigawa and her friends are girls. That’s where they hang out._

“Knew it. You’re regretting this already. What’s wrong, Yahaba? Ashamed I won’t suit your _fucking_ image. Wrong aesthetic?” he mocked, his voice rising an octave.

_Jeez, you’re so fucking defensive._

“No, that’s fine!” Shigeru snapped back. “Saturday, we’ll head there!”

And then Kyoutani made a sound that could almost have been a laugh, and the lips that had been pressed into one thin line, plumped a little. “One thing,” he murmured.

_Is that a wink?_ “Go on,” Shigeru rasped.

“Sort your hair out. It’s a fucking disaster today, Yahaba-kun.”

 


	2. Cat-astrophy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 'Date' is On ... and Shigeru really didn't think this through. 
> 
> Yikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My puns don't get any better.

If Shigeru had thought the situation between himself and Kyoutani was in any way resolved after their locker room chat, then he was sadly mistaken. The agreement for a date had not led to any form of _entente cordiale_ (as his French teacher would say) on court, and with practise matches lined up for next week, Thursday afternoon’s session had needed to be slick.

It was the opposite of slick. It was so _un_ slick that Shigeru had to study the floor to see if anyone had sprayed it with tintacks.

Before they’d had their ‘chat’, Kyoutani had been offhand. Now he was not only offhand but aggressive, barging his way across the court, jumping high for tosses that were aimed for Kindaichi, and snarling at any hint of a reprimand.

_Did we really discuss a date four hours ago?_ Shigeru wondered, his brow now creased so deep he’d be permanently wrinkled before he’d made it out of his teens.

“Aghh!”  Kunimi had crashed to the floor, tripped up by Kyoutani when they’d both dived for the same ball.

“Say something!” Watari hissed.

“Don’t worry, I’m fucking on it!” Shigeru retorted, not even bothering to keep his voice low. “Oi! Kyoutani!”

“What!” he yelled back. “Legit ball!”

“Help Kunimi up!”

“I’m up, I’m up,” Kunimi replied, scooting away on his bottom, then getting to his feet, a blank expression on his face.

“Apologise!” Shigeru insisted.

“Why?”

“Because it was clearly his ball.”

“How am I supposed to know when the lazy fucker’s actually gonna make a move for it!” Kyoutani replied.

He had a point - ish.  In trying to play to everyone’s strengths, Seijou’s new team consisted of both Kyoutani and Kunimi as starting wing spikers. The trouble was that neither had played together before, and for Kyoutani – who personally believed the only way to play was as hard and as fast as you could – the apathetic aura surrounding Kunimi was anathema to him.

“ _Trust_ him.”

“No ... no ... you go for it, if you wish, Kyoutani-san,” Kunimi murmured and wandered back to the baseline. “I’m happy to leave-”

_‘No. No, you’re NOT!’_ Shigeru wanted to screech. But he didn’t. Instead he channelled his inner Oikawa, smiled lightly and added a horribly fake trill to his voice to say ultra sweetly, “You could always take it in turns.”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck?”

“Yes,” Shigeru said, warming to his theme. “Take it in turns. Make sure you both have equal time on the ball. After all –” His eyes narrowed and the honeyed tone was suddenly awash with vinegar. “AFTER ALL IT WON’T TAKE THE OPPOSITION ALL FRICKING MATCH TO WORK OUT THAT YOU TWO ARE IDIOTS!”

Someone touched his arm. Not one of the warring spikers in front of him, but someone else. He twisted his head a little, to find Watari there, a worried smile on his face. “Think you’ve made your point,” he whispered.

But from the look of Kyoutani as he stomped back to the baseline for serve practise, the point had not only been made, but had been lodged deep within his gut.

He rifled off a serve, the power behind it left Shigeru breathless (and it was definitely the power as the ball thumping into the opposite corner of the court had caused the gym to quake, and not the fact that his shirt had ridden up and his back muscles were ... _Fuck.)_

“That idiotic enough for you!” Kyoutani growled, and leant back against the wall, hands stuffed in his shorts’ pockets, watching as one of the first years tentatively stepped forwards for his go.

***

 

Things did not improve on Friday. Although quieter, Kyoutani arrived late for both practises, his phone in his hand, and was clearly on edge. Bringing his phone, and leaving it switched on was an unwritten taboo at practise (only Oikawa had got away with it, telling everyone he wanted photographic proof of certain plays, when they all knew he was taking selfies or focusing on the ace).  Watching him, Shigeru realised he’d made a fundamental error because he was obviously trying his hardest to rile up Shigeru to such an extent, that he’d call off the date – fake though it was.

“Kyoutani- kun! Phone off!” Irihata ordered, when it had beeped for the third time, sending him scooting back to the bench.

He glowered, but complied, his face set like stone. And although he played a full set _with_ Kunimi, rather than opposite him, Kyoutani was distracted, missing more chances than normal, his expression sullen and closed.

_Okay. I’m calling this off,_ Shigeru decided later in the locker room. _He’s upset, thought better of it, and wants out. If that means he’s a homophobic shit, then I’m just going to have to work with that, however much I want to smash his fucking face in._

“Kyoutani, a word!” he muttered, grabbing his sleeve as the other boy was heading for the door.

“Now? I gotta be somewhere,” he grumbled.

“Won’t take long,” Shigeru whispered, hoping his authority carried through when he was quieter. “It’s about-”

_Beep-boop._

Kyoutani’s fingers scrolled onto his phone, his eyes flicking, almost nervously, until something stared up at him. He grinned at his phone, then realising Shigeru was still there, he blinked. “Uh ... yeah, go ahead, Yahaba-kun.”

“It’s about tomorrow,” Shigeru continued irritably.

“Oh, yeah, midday all right? I’ll meet you there.”

“Uh ...” His jaw didn’t quite drop to the floor, but Kyoutani’s easy acceptance, his ... his ... unbotheredness (really that was the only word Shigeru could think of) was so natural and easy, he was left without any objections in his head.

“F-fine,” he stuttered.

“Cool. Uh ... I really have to go, so if you could...” He pulled at his sleeve, causing the fabric to slip through Shigeru’s fingers. “Bye.”

“Uh ... yeah ... bye.”

Shigeru stood at the door, watching until the figure of Kyoutani sprinting across the courtyard had rounded the corner, disappearing from sight. And even then, he didn’t return to the locker room, his eyes unblinking and focused on that spot in the distance where he’d last seen his ace.

For no matter how many times he told himself it was fake, he still had a date tomorrow with Kyoutani Kentarou, a date that he should very definitely have called off by now.

 

**May 1st**

_[02:07]_

**Yahaba:** Help.  


_[02:17]_  
  


**Yahaba:** Please?  
**Muscles-chan:** Yahaba-kun?  What’s up?  


_Oh ..._ That has to be...

_[02:30]_

**Muscles-chan:** You still there?  
**Muscles-chan:**   Fuck you, Oikawa. Stop changing my name on these fucking chats.

  
_[02:35]_

**Iwaizumi:** Right, that’s better. Yahaba. Are you okay?

_He’ll want to know everything._  
  


_[02:40]_

**Yahaba:** Nothing. It’s fine. Don’t worry, Iwaizumi-san.  
**Iwaizumi:** You sure?  
**Yahaba:** Mmm, it was a volleyball DVD. I couldn’t remember which play I needed to watch.  
**Iwaizumi:** Ok. You’ve got games coming up for Golden Week, right?  
**Yahaba:** Mmm. One with Wakatun. The other against Ougiminami.  
**Iwaizumi:** Ah. Watch out for slippery floors.  
**Yahaba:**  ???  
**Iwaizumi:** All that blood.  
**Yahaba:**   Sorry?

  
_What the heck is he talking about?_

_[02:46]_  
**Iwaizumi:** Ougiminami.  
**Yahaba:** Uh  
**Iwaizumi:** Delinquent school. Supposedly  
**Iwaizumi:** forget it.  
**Yahaba:** Ah right!  We will!!  
**Iwaizumi:** And you’re all right, yeah?  
**Yahaba:** Yup.  
**Iwaizumi:** Then maybe try sleeping instead of watching DVDs this late.

_[02:47]_

**Yahaba:** sure!! Yes. Good plan!!!

_Why am I using so many fucking exclamation marks?_

**Iwaizumi:**  You absolutely sure you’re fine, Yahaba-kun?  
**Yahaba:**   never better. Um, how are you anyway?  
**Iwaizumi:** Apart from pulling an all- nighter to get an assignment done, I’m fine.  
**Yahaba:** Ah, I’ll leave you to it, then. Sorry for disturbing you.  
**Iwaizumi:** Nah, it’s cool. I need the distraction and I’ll sleep as soon as I’ve handed this fucker in.  
**Yahaba:**   Night then.  
**Iwaizumi:** Yup. I better get back to it. Good luck.  


_With what?  Shit, what has Oikawa told him?_  
  


_[02:55]_

**Iwaizumi:** It was a joke, btw. Ougiminami aren’t really delinquents. Just idiots. One look at Kyoutani and they’ll roll over.

_Oh, the matches._

**Yahaba:** lol – yeah. Night, then.

 

He closed the window, then lying back on his bed, his head firmly impressed upon the pillow, he stared up at the ceiling _. I’m never going to get to sleep,_ he thought. _I have to make a plan._

He yawned.

_A plan._

_A..._

  
***

 

It was eleven thirty. It was eleven thirty on the Saturday morning and after a surprisingly deep sleep, Shigeru found himself checking his reflection in the mirror for the sixteenth time and trying to tame a recalcitrant curl, sticking out to the side of his otherwise perfect mop of hair.

His phone was on his bedside table charging. All he’d had to do was type a quick message to Kyoutani saying it was all off, and he could have quite easily continued with his day. It might have been a little awkward at practice later on, but they could have ridden it out. Now he knew Kyoutani wasn’t a bigoted asswipe, Shigeru realised he could live with his sullenness, his temper tantrums, and even the recklessness that had the team quaking. His recklessness, Shigeru had decided, was integral to the team. It wasn’t that he was a central cog, but more that as he freewheeled, the rest of the side worked twice as hard to fit, and also to accommodate.

 

_I don’t need to go through with this,_ he told himself for the umpteenth time. And yet, he was pulling on his third t shirt to see which looked best, and worrying about a dumb curl.

_I have to make an effort_ , he convinced himself, _or Kyoutani will know it’s fake. I mean, obviously he knows this is a fake date, but he doesn’t know it’s a fake-fake date, and ..._   He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion in his brain.

_Why am I doing this again?_

 

The _Cutie-Cat Kitty Cafe_ was a favourite with the girls from Seijou. Shigeru knew this because many of them would arrive at school with small keepsakes (napkins or stirrers) which they’d purloined. The girls in his class, in particular, were continually exchanging photographs of the cats in residence, and they’d frequently ‘oo’ and ‘ahh’ over a latest kitten that’d been rescued. For all of these reasons, it had been the first place Shigeru had thought of when trying to give credence to his story. Now that he was approaching, and looked through the window, he groaned at how idiotic he’d been to suggest this venue.

It was _full_ of girls. Older girls in groups. Younger girls with their mums. Some were alone, sitting at side tables against the wall reading a book with a cat on their lap. A group of four were trying to entice down from one platform a haughty-looking Siamese cat, currently basking in the sun filtering through the window. Three or four girls had brought along sheepish looking boyfriends.

Who were the only boys in there.

_And I’m ... Oh fuck._

He stayed where he was, hardly daring to breathe in case he fogged up the window and dragged attention to himself. A large tabby stared out at him from its window seat, eyes unblinking, almost taunting, as it dared Shigeru to enter.

“Yahaba-san?”

He turned sharply hearing the soft voice. “Ah... Ish-Ishigawa-san. How ... uh ... Are you going inside?”

_Please say no. Please say no._

As Ishigawa nodded, a stubborn curl escaped the band holding her hair in place, and she raised her hand self-consciously to clip it back. Used to his own unruly hair misbehaving, he smiled with what he hoped was sympathy but possibly came across as panic. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled back, and he caught a faint blush on her cheek before the words left her mouth. “Is Watari-san with you?”

“Watari?” _Huh? Oh ...OHHHHH!_   “Uh ... no. I’m ... um ...”

“’Lo.”

They both turned at the new voice, Shigeru startled even though he’d expected it.

“Kyoutani!” he exclaimed, far too brightly. “Hi. You made it.”

“Said I would,” he muttered as his eyes flicked from Ishigawa’s face to Shigeru’s. “You did ...uh ... ask me here.”

“Yeah...”

“Excuse me,” Ishigawa said, the smile leaving her face as she edged towards the door. “I’m meeting people in there.”

“Sure. I’ll... um ... right.”

A sound emanated from Kyoutani’s mouth. Sounding very much like a snort, he watched Ishigawa enter the cafe before he stared at Shigeru. “Are we going in, or what?”

“I...I...I... don’t know. Uh ... it’s...um ... this is really kind of ... um ...” _Fuck, I’m babbling._

“Not thought this through, right?” Kyoutani muttered. “You’re not really as out as you said, are you?”

Shigeru blinked rapidly. “That obvious?”

Shrugging, Kyoutani shoved his hands in his pockets. “I dunno who you hang out with at school. Just ... not heard much about you, that’s all.” He chewed the side of his mouth, then scuffed at the ground with the toe of his trainer. “Call it off it if you want. No fricking skin off my nose. But ...uh ...”

“What?”

Kyoutani said nothing, keeping his eyes lowered.

“Tell me?”

Coughing, Kyoutani straightened up, gazing at something in the cafe, before he faced Shigeru. “You’re out to the team. That’s not gonna stay quiet for long. Might be good getting it over and down with. Like ripping off a plaster.”

“But-”

“Ah, right, I get it. You don’t want to be seen with me.” Kyoutani’s face twisted not, as expected, into its usual snarl, but more resigned. “Fine. I’ve got other things I could be doing.”

“Huh?”

“For _fuck’s_ sake, Yahaba, the whole fucking world doesn’t revolve round you and your fucking sexuality. At least, mine doesn’t. Now, I said I owed you, so we either get this over and done with now, or I fucking go and do something else that doesn’t involve a fuck load of cats.”

_And we’re back to this ... fuck ... fuck ... fuck!_

“One thing,” Kyoutani continued through his teeth. “Why the fuck did you even ask me if you had no fucking intention of going through with it?”

_Because I wanted to know what the deal was with you and didn’t think it would come to this?_   Like that was gonna work. If he fessed up now, he’d end up with Kyoutani’s fist in his face, and he was pretty sure no one would blame him.

Lightning decision made Shigeru grabbed Kyoutani’s arm, just as he’d stepped away. “Let’s do it.”

Slowly turning back – just his face and not his entire body - Kyoutani stared deep into Shigeru’s eyes.

_Wow, they’re light brown. Why did I think his eyes were black?_

“Do what?”

“Uh...” Swallowing, he smiled feebly. “Let’s go and pet some cats. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“S’pose,” he muttered, still looking bootfaced, but he didn’t pull away, and he reached the door ahead of Shigeru.

If the bell tinkling as they walked in didn’t herald their arrival to the occupants of the cafe, the sight of Kyoutani attempting to sidle past a pair of cats that trotted up to them, certainly caused more people to glance their way. It wasn’t that Kyoutani looked annoyed at the animals, just surprised they were there.

“You do know what this place is, don’t you?” Shigeru hissed.

“Yeah, just didn’t expect them to be so in my face,” he whispered back. “I thought there was a room, where they’d keep them. Like on sofas. Not –“  He twisted around, his eyes flicking from corner to corner, up and down. “They’re _everywhere!_ ”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point.  Look, do you want to leave?”

Despite the very real ‘get me out of here’ expression on his face, the instinct to flee writ large in his coiled stance, Kyoutani did actually consider the question, tilting his head to the side. “Um ... no ... let’s stay. It’s ... uh ... fine. C’n we sit in the corner, though?”

“Mmm, which one?”

“Not the pink one.” He actually shivered. “See too much of that.”

Deciding not to ask, Shigeru followed Kyoutani to a table in a less resplendent area of the cafe. Not as aggressively chintzy (if chintz could be aggressive then the corner opposite was a master class – with floral wallpaper, floral tablecloths, napkins and even salt and pepper pots in flowery china) the area they found themselves in was obviously supposed to appeal to those who didn’t squeal and gush every time they saw a kitten poking its nose through a meadow of flowers. It was still cat themed, but seeing a picture of a hipster black cat with shades and playing a trumpet glowering down at them, it was clear this was a ‘cool cat’ theme.

Not that the cats appeared to give a fuck which area they sat in. The large tabby, Shigeru had spied earlier, stayed in the chintz window, while a very fluffy grey cat, with large blue eyes, followed them to their seats, mewling pathetically.

It was as they sat, and Kyoutani picked up a menu, that Shigeru sat back and for the first time studied his ‘date’.

The kohl was back in place. Thick black delineating his eyes, Shigeru had thought he only wore it for matches in an attempt to intimidate the opposition. With his eyes cast down, Shigeru could see Kyoutani’s short spiky lashes, and he pondered – very briefly – if he’d applied mascara as well. His hair was starting to grow out its former style, and a tiny fuzz of blond curls impinged on the black tramlines. And in that moment, he wondered what Kyoutani had looked like before he’d dyed his hair, before he’d taken to painting his face, whether it was in response to an angry past, or whether the image fed his anger.

“Are you staring at me for effect?”

“S-sorry?”

Slowly looking up from the menu, Kyoutani eyed him, keeping his voice low and level. “You’re staring at me. Now if you’re trying to pretend we’re on a date, you kind of need to look as if you like me and aren’t fricking disgusted by what’s in front of you.”

“I wasn’t!  I mean, I’m not ... disgusted that is. I guess I was staring, though.”

“So, what conclusions have you come to?”

He picked up a menu. “No conclusions. I was just wondering how you get the lines in your hair.”

Snorting, Kyoutani shook his head.  _Yeah, right,_ he appeared to say, but he must have thought better of saying it because he did venture a conciliatory reply. “I bleached my hair, and then cut tramlines in it. When that hair grew back, it was black. That’s all.”

“Why?”

He smirked. “That’s your real question. Why not, is the answer. Why’s your hair a credit to your mommy? Why does Watari keep his hair so short? And the million dollar question - why does Kindaichi look like a fucking turnip?”

Shigeru laughed, loud, sudden, the sound surprising both of them, and causing several of the girls at nearby tables to glance their way.

And keep staring.

“We’ve been spotted,” Kyoutani muttered.

“Yeah.” For some reason the news didn’t worry him at all. It could have been because they both knew the whole thing was fake, but Shigeru couldn’t shift the niggle in his brain that he actually didn’t give a flying fuck what people thought. Even if he was with Kyoutani.

_Or because I’m with him._

“What do you want? I’ll buy,” Shigeru asked, flapping the menu to attract the waitress.

“I can pay.”

“I asked you, though. You _are_ doing me a favour.”

As Kyoutani went back to the menu, the grey cat wandered back to them, rubbing his forehead against Shigeru’s legs. He bent down to scratch his ears, but just then, the cat shifted direction, slinking its way towards Kyoutani, and mewing up at him.

“Fuck that!”

It wasn’t said with anger, more surprise and _fear_? No, he was startled, that was all, but he didn’t welcome the attention, moving his legs further back under his chair. Not that it put off the grey cat, who mewed louder, then batted Kyoutani’s shoelace with his paw.

“What the ...”

“Oooh, Kiri’s found you,” said the waitress, when she’d wandered over. She had a smile on her face, and in her voice, light and welcoming. “He likes a challenge.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t-”

“I’d like coffee,” Shigeru interrupted, “And ... uh ... one of the cupcakes.”  He stopped, suddenly unsure, because if they were supposed to be on a date, what should he call the boy opposite him? Did it make a difference that they were also teammates? Should he imply they’d been going out together for ages? That they were close?

He gulped. “Kyoutani-kun,” he settled for,  “what do you fancy?”

“Not a fricking cat,” he said, but in undertone so the waitress couldn’t hear. “Tea would be great, and ... uh ... I’ll take a cake, too. Also, could I have extra napkins? Pink, please.”

“Certainly!”  Her cheeks dimpled and she flounced off, two braids bouncing on her shoulders.

“For my sister,” Kyoutani explained. “Anything pink, to be honest.”

“You have a sister?”

He nodded. “Uh-huh. She’s nine. And a brother. He’s two. Well, two and a half.”

“Wow. I didn’t know. I’m an only child.”

Kyoutani’s eyes widened. “Wow, I’d never have guessed,” he mocked, then shrugged.

“You guessed?  How?”

Kyoutani leant forwards conspiratorially, his brows drawn together. “You have this vibe,” he whispered. “It’s like you’re used to being the centre of everyone’s universe. Reminds me of Oikawa.”

“What?”

 “Yeah, thought that’d please you.”

“He’s not an only child,” Shigeru snapped. “He has an older sister. And a nephew!”

“Defensive, too,” Kyoutani added. “Mark of a spoilt brat.”

“You can fucking talk!”

“Nah, I’m a fucking angry bastard,” Kyoutani said, smirking. “It’s not defence at all, just pick an attack and go for it.”

A small silence ensured, but before Shigeru could frame an answer, or pose another question, their chirpy waitress returned with a tray – a tray she didn’t immediately set in front of them. “We do have larger tables,” she said.

“We’re fine,” Shigeru replied, shuddering at the four-person table she’d gestured to in the chintz corner.

“Only, if you’re expecting company, then they won’t be able to fit...” she continued, still smiling.

“Um...” Still she didn’t put the tray down. “We’re running out of couple tables,” she murmured, the smile on her face now wider and more brittle. “So if people join you, then they cause an obstruction in the gangway.”

_Huh?_

Kyoutani tilted his head up, meeting her eyes. “No one’s joining us,” he told her, with surprising unKyoutani-like politeness. “And we don’t want them to, so if we could have our drinks.”

She blinked first, set the tray down, and then scuttled off. Purloining the napkins (she’d been very generous) Kyoutani removed Shigeru’s coffee and cupcake before his own and shoved the tray under the table.

“You’re not angry all the time, then?” Shigeru said, his lips curving. “That sounded almost reasonable.”

“’Cause I sometimes work shifts in my uncle’s place, so I know she’s probably been getting shit from her manager.”

“You work?”

“Mmm, pays for the eyeliner,” Kyoutani retorted. “You don’t, obviously.”

“You make a lot of assumptions, Kyoutani.”

“I’m right though, aren’t I?”

_Shall I invent a job, just to piss him off?_

“Maybe.” Picking up a spoon, he trailed it across his coffee, ruining the cat shape picked out in white foam. “I don’t have time,” he mumbled. “Volleyball and school takes up most of my day.”

“Apart from fake dates.”

“Apart from them.”

“Heading for college?”

“Mmm. Sendai, probably, but Tokyo or Osaka if I study really hard. And you?”

Kyoutani’s eyelids were flickering, and there was a definite air of surprise crinkling around his lips. It wasn’t as if he’d not thought about it, more astonishment that someone would ask. “I’m not ... uh ... bright enough for college. Sounds kinda fun, but my grades aren’t good.”

“There are other ways to get there.”

“Sport scholarship?” He gave a lopsided smile that was more of a grimace. “Would help if I’d stuck around and been noticed in year one.”

“Maybe the scouts will spot you this year at Inter-High ...” Shigeru left the thought to percolate, the carrot to attend practice, a long-term goal opening up all their horizons.

Kyoutani sighed and the silence became heavy again as both contemplated life after Aobajousai.

 

The coffee was weak and too foamy and Shigeru wished he’d ordered it black and strong, with no craft behind it. Across the table, Kyoutani stirred the contents of his teapot before pouring the amber liquid into his cup. He dribbled in some milk then took a sip.

“That girl,” he said, muttering over the brim of his cup. “Ishigawa.”

“What about her?”

“She’s been joined by her friends. They’re watching you...” He trailed off, then ducking his head down, he slumped back in his seat, slopping his tea over his shirt. “Oh ... fuuuck!”

Shigeru heard what he’d seen described in books as ‘titters’ - laughter but not pleasant, quiet and faintly scathing. As Kyoutani replaced his cup, Shigeru handed over his napkin, then cast a look over his shoulder, focusing on Ishigawa’s table.

He didn’t recognise them – not individually, anyway – but rather as a group of girls he’d seen around school when he was dashing to class or practice. Save for Ishigawa, none were in his class, or the one just below. But from the look on Kyoutani’s face, the frown lines and stiffened mouth, lips disappearing as he bared his teeth, he knew them all too well.

_What have I landed him in?_

“Kyoutani...” he began, but just then, the incessant giggling became a low murmur, a throng as the tone changed from girlish glee, to something harsher, animalistic. A series of yips and then a howl.

_Mad Dog,_ he thought. A name that might have sounded cool on court. Hell, Shigeru had envied the cheering howls that had assailed the stadium when Kyoutani had stormed the court, but over his shoulder, the girls had taken the name  and were using it as a weapon. Eyes rolling, tongues lolling, flattening their hair back, and drawing forwards their eyebrows into a hideous mockery of the boy he was sat with.

Kyoutani’s knuckles had whitened as he fiddled with the ring on his hand. For all his aggression, for all his ‘fuck you’ attitude, Shigeru had a sudden glimpse of a younger boy, one clearly not in control, one struggling because he so obviously wanted to strike back – but he wouldn’t.

“Ignore them,” Shigeru said. “Fake a smile. Talk to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he seethed.  The howls became a chorus. “Just fucking ... fucking...”

“Then I’ll talk,” Shigeru said. “I’m going to spout a lot of rubbish, and you’re going to take a breath, calm down and smile. You’ll smile and then you might laugh.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Kindaichi’s serve in practise. He threw too high.”

No response. His fingers curled so far into his palms, Shigeru wondered if he’d draw blood.

“It landed on his head. Not even that flattened his hair.”

He was biting deep into his lip, and still the fretful barks and giggling growls continued.

Determined not to look, to not give the girls any satisfaction that they were at all perturbed, Shigeru tired once more. “Smile,” he whispered. “Pretend I’m saying something funny. I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t give in to them.”

“Fuck off!”

“Last year, before you came back, Hanamaki was practising setting once, and completely overshot the court. Matsukawa-san was so determined to get it, he leapt over Watari, but then lost his shoe.”

“What the fuck...”

Better.

“Remember when we lost to Karasuno,” Shigeru quickfired.

“That’s gonna make me laugh?”

_No, but at least you’ve stopped looking so defeated._

“Oikawa-san having to buy us all ramen.”

“So fucking what.”

“He’s coming back during Golden Week, so maybe he should again.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what.”

“His fucking nickname. His fucking ‘Mad Dog-chan’.”

His hands were unfurling, fingers stiff but now splayed in front of him and as Shigeru took a breath, he saw Kyoutani’s chest rise and fall. He let out a tiny mewl-like groan, and shifted back in his seat.  It was as Kyoutani closed his eyes, and when one of the girls decided to whistle commands, that another player entered the fray. Kiri, obviously bored with the floor, leapt onto Kyoutani’s lap, arching his back, tail pointing to the ceiling.

On instinct, Kyoutani bolted upright. Kiri mewed loud, then turning one circle, he settled on his lap. After one small hesitation, Kyoutani dropped his hand to Kiri’s back, patting awkwardly.

“Scratch its ears,” Shigeru said. “Cats have scent glands there, that’s why they rub their heads against everything. Bit like dogs when they pee, ‘cept it’s less revolting.”

“Not revolting. It’s instinct.”

He was calmer, and although the girls had descended into commands (‘Sit!’, ‘Walkies!’ ‘Fetch!’) Kyoutani had opened his eyes and was deliberately not looking their way.

“Dogs do that to mark territory. It’s a throw back to when they were wild,” he murmured. “And it’s not that much piss, to be honest.”

“You’re a dog person.”

He smiled, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “Yeah... Ow!” Kyoutani chuckled as Kiri hissed. “Guess this guy understood that. Sorry, you’re cool and all that, but Dango won’t like it if I take you home.”

“Dango?”

“My dog.” And then, even though the girls from his class hadn’t let up, his grin became wider, gentler. Keeping one hand on Kiri, he fished out his phone. “She’s just had puppies. Wanna look?”

Their hands touched – normal contact. The sort of touch that happened on the everyday. Handing something over, a high five after a point scored, a handshake – that kind of contact. And yet ... and yet ... there was a charge, a flicker as they exchanged looks, lingering and almost warm as they shared something that had fuck all to do with the game. Returning the smile, Shigeru took the phone and scrolled through the photos.

A large ball of white fluff was sprawled on a rug. Peering closer, he realised the floofy mass was the dog, her paw outstretched scooping a tiny white pup towards her as she lapped.  Two others were lying alongside her, by her belly, suckling greedily, eyes not yet open.

“Jeez, when you said she’d had puppies, I didn’t realise you meant now!”

“Yesterday. They’re ... uh ... eighteen hours old.”

“Ah, so that’s why you were so jumpy yesterday.”

He nodded, his features softening. “My sister was messaging me.”

Studying the last photo, one of the Dango, the puppies and two kids, Shigeru contemplated the group. The girl staring up into the camera, hair in tight bunches, could have been Kyoutani’s double. There was something about the fierceness of her expression, even though she was grinning as she faced the camera, that could have been her brother years before. But the boy, chubby faced, with a mop of black hair had far paler skin.

“Cute,” Shigeru said, handing back the phone. “Three puppies. What are you going to do with them?”

“Sell them. They’re pedigree Spitz, so we shouldn’t have a problem. Micchan wants to keep them all, but mom said no.” He smiled back at the pictures, crinkling up his nose. “Might persuade her to keep one of them.”

The noise from the girls’ table had lessened, he thought, the lack of reaction from him and Kyoutani leaving them bored of the taunting. As Kyoutani placed his phone back on the table, showing Shigeru a video of his dog from a month before, he again touched the ring on his finger, then picked up his cupcake, breaking a piece off.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

He didn’t ask what for. This glimpse into Kyoutani’s life – so at odds with the image – rendered him mute. For Shigeru, the use of words to deflect criticism, and his ability to fend of bullies with a smart remark or a smile, was an ability he’d nurtured – based in part on his upbringing as the son of a journalist, but also in seeing the way Oikawa had dealt with those around him.

And he wondered if anger was innate or was something that could be cultivated like charm.

Unable to stop himself, he cast a quick look over his shoulder. As he’d thought the girls had grown bored with taunting, but he caught Ishigawa’s eye, and glared until she looked away.

“That’s the girl after you, right?” Kyoutani asked.

“Huh? Oh ... uh ... yeah.”

“Don’t know her, but she’s sitting with Mizohito and her _gang_ from my class. If they’re alike, she’s a right -” His face twisted. “I wanna say bitch, but I like dogs.”

“Ishigawa comes to watch matches as part of the cheer squad,” Shigeru said, and whistled a breath through his teeth. “If she’s recruiting, is that gonna be a problem?”

With a sigh, Kyoutani gave Kiri one last scratch on the ears, then lowered him to the floor. He gulped at his tea, then shifted forwards. “That’s what counts, right?”

“Uh... you being able to play well matters,” Shigeru replied, hoping he sounded sincere. “You’re important to the team. You know that. And if we’ve got supporters bad mouthing you, then I wanna know.”

“Don’t worry about it. On court all that matters is the game, right?” He was fiddling with his ring again.  “If they’re there, I might slam it all the harder.”

“Fine.” Gulping his coffee, he rattled his thoughts for how to change the subject. “Dango?”

“Uh, what about her?”

“Why the name?”

“Got her four years ago during hanami. My sis loved the sweets and ... I dunno ... she was this white ball of fur, and looked a bit like them, I guess. I didn’t really get a say.” He shrugged, but once again, his fingers were twisting at his ring.

Peeling away the cake case, Shigeru licked some of the frosting of his cake. It was sweet and fluffy, with a faint vanilla tang. He took another lick, letting the flavour infuse on his tongue before he swallowed.  
Kyoutani was staring at him. He was staring much like the tabby cat had earlier – unblinking and vaguely scornful.

“What?” Shigeru demanded.

“You eat like my sister,” he laughed. “I was wondering if this was you playing up to the crowd.”

“Sorry?”

“Licking that frosting is about the gayest thing I’ve ever seen,” Kyoutani replied, and unable to keep the mirth out of his voice, he stifled a snort with his hand.

“Are you telling me that’s how you ‘clocked’ I was gay?”

“Yeah, right, because I make a habit of watching you snog your food.” Chuckling, he bit into the rest of his cake, before continuing. “Nah, it was the way you drooled whenever Oikawa appeared.”

“I DID NOT!”

“You fucking did,” Kyoutani retorted, still laughing. “You were like these cats, rubbing your head against his legs, desperate for attention.”

“B-because he’s an amazing player!” Shigeru protested.

“C’monnnnn, admit it – he was your first crush, right?”

“No. Not at all!”

_Hell, had it been so obvious?_ “What about you!” he countered, annoyed he could hear the fluster in his voice. “Didn’t listen to anyone except Iwaizumi-san! Now _that_ was obvious!”

Kyoutani flashed him a smile. A brief on-off smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, or make any attempt at lightening his expression. “There’s a difference between respect and fawning adoration, dickhead.”

“Yeah, right. So, it’s okay for you to admire a strong player – the type of player you want to be – but if it’s me, or anyone else, then it has to be some dumb adolescent crush!”

Their voices had risen, and seeing the way Kyoutani’s attention had shifted minutely over Shigeru’s shoulder, he stopped protesting, giving them both a chance to collect themselves.

“Hey, Mad-Dog, how are you doooooing?”

“Ah, fuck, that’s all I need.” Tilting back on his chair, he locked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Sensing a reaction, the girls began their mockery once more. This time Shigeru had had enough.

“There’s two ways to deal with this,” he said, diving straight in.

“’Ignore them, they’ll get bored’,” Kyoutani parroted.  “You sound like my sensei. I’ve been ignoring them for two _fucking_ years. I’m like the game they never get tired of.”

He was propped forward on his hand now, his fingers across his mouth, but his eyes were intent, burning into Shigeru.

“You’re not ignoring them, though. At least, your non-reaction is actually a reaction because they can see they’re getting to you. Maybe if you smiled at them. I dunno, engaged in conversation, then they’d ease up.”

“I don’t ...”

Sniffing, Kyoutani dropped his hand, but didn’t lessen the intensity of his gaze, and neither did the shrieks and giggles from the girls’ table, although other people around them, had started to glare, annoyed with the disturbance.

He took a deeper breath. “I don’t talk the way you do, Yahaba. Can’t think of the words.”

“Smile at them, wink, pretend you think it’s a compliment they’re paying you. They’ll stop after that. It’s only because they know they’re getting to you.” With a sigh, he leant further forwards, pushing his hands across the table, stopping just as his fingertips grazed the hairs on Kyoutani’s arm.

“Not right away.”

He had three moles on his forearm, another on his wrist. “Uh... what?”

Oblivious, Kyoutani moved, picking up his tea to take another swallow. “It won’t work right away. Won’t stop what’s happening now.”

 “Nope.” Shigeru sighed, and shifting away, he wiped his palms down his shorts, wondering when they’d got so clammy. “Want to leave?”

“Wouldn’t mind. Not sure Ishigawa-san’s got the message, though. She’s kind of watching you.”

_What?_

“Oh ... uh ... Maybe being here and leaving together will be enough. I’ll ... um ... Like I can ... um ... embroider the rest at school.” He hoped he sounded truthful, or at least as if he was counting on it doing the trick and not as if he’d completely forgotten which parts of this date were  fake and which were even faker.

“Unpick, more like. Not sure I’m good for your image as Captain, am I?” But although the scowl was back in place, there was a quirk to Kyoutani’s lips, and his tone was a little lighter than before.

They got to their feet, agreeing to split the bill with Shigeru munching the rest of his cake, but leaving his insipid coffee. Walking to the counter to pay meant squeezing through the tables and more importantly avoiding the cats, especially Kiri who was protesting at their sudden exit.

“You want to be careful who you keep company with, Yahaba-san,” called someone.  Shigeru turned and found himself meeting the eyes of the taunters’ ringleader. With blonde and blue streaks in her black hair, eyelids painted a vibrant purple and heavily outlined in black, Mizohito resembled a hybrid punk badger. And in an odd way she reminded Shigeru of the very boy she was taunting. Except the edge with Kyoutani was real, born of the frustration and anger of being an outsider. Hers felt like an image, a girl with nothing to rebel against, deciding this was the way to attract attention.

He blanked her.

“You want to be careful who _you_ hang out with, Ishigawa-san,” he said, turning sideways, and waited for his classmate to lift up her head. When she did, he saw a girl in the thrall of embarrassment, one who knew she’d made a bad decision, but whether it was regret over the crowd she was with, or that she’d admitted she knew him, he had no idea.

“People will talk about you,” another girl said, giggling stupidly as she nudged the badger girl. “They’ll get the wrong idea, won’t they Keiko-kun.”

“Really?” Raising his eyebrows, straightening to his full height, an image flashed through Shigeru’s head, Oikawa-san walking down the corridors of school, surrounded by girls, chatting away to them, but his eyes and smile lighting only for Iwaizumi. And he thought of Kyoutani, swearing he didn’t give a damn, but so cloaked in anger it affected his whole life. Blindly he reached out and tugged on Kyoutani’s sleeve, his fingers furling around his arm. He smiled and trilled out a laugh. “How many fucks do you think I give, Mizo- _chaaaaan_?”

Kyoutani had stiffened - Shigeru realised that after - and if he’d been half as adept at reading body language as he’d thought, he’d definitely have released him. But caught up in the moment, high on the thaw (he told himself) between them, he pulled Kyoutani back. Raising his hand, his fingers came into contact with Kyoutani’s cheek and he dusted away a cake crumb.

And that was all he’d meant to do. Something brief. Something so fleeting that it could have been interpreted in several ways. He had nothing to prove; the date being fake in more ways than one meant he could judge it a success to Kyoutani by telling him any girls had lost interest.

But he’d not considered Kyoutani’s reaction. A slight hitch of breath, and then he’d twisted his chin and his lips had touched Shigeru’s palm.

An accident... it _had_ to be.  

Possibly.

Maybe.

Definitely.

But then came his own reaction. His mouth agape, the thunk of his pulse pounding as blood rushed to his cheeks, and the way his stomach suddenly plummeted as if he’d been hit in the solar plexus with a spike, because Kyoutani hadn’t moved back.

Involuntarily, Shigeru’s thumb moved to stroke Kyoutani’s cheek. It flamed under the touch. Involuntarily, he slipped towards him, his eyes widening, a smile present. Involuntarily ...

Or so he thought. Later when he went over it, he wondered how anything could be involuntary. It wasn’t as if this was a heartbeat, or a blink, but a reaction. A choice, maybe, an instinct definitely.

 “Ohhh, Mad Dog’s in leurve!”

“Let’s hope the puppies get Yahaba’s looks.”

“And his brain.”

Shigeru flinched. Kyoutani released him, and with a snarl at either him or their audience, he stormed to the counter. Throwing down a wedge of money (far more than half) he dashed to the door. It was raining but he didn’t stop, not even to wrestle into his hoodie, and pounded down the pavements, splashing through the shallow puddles.  He was halfway down the street when Shigeru caught up, but still he wouldn’t come to a halt, not even when Shigeru yelled his name as he yanked on his arm.

“Slow down, will you!”

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“Why?”

“You know why? Playing your stupid fucking fake dating game. The way to get rid of your fans, you said. Well, it’s worked now. You sure showed them, didn’t you, Yahaba- _san_ ,” he yelled as he tried to shake him off.

Shigeru swung Kyoutani round to face him. “Why are you _so_ riled?”

There were tiny raindrops – like stars - clinging to the tight curls of his hair, several sploshing on his face, which he tried to rub off on his shoulder, resulting in smears of black across his cheek and shirt.

“You playing up to them,” Kyoutani seethed. “Anything for shock value, right? Your image needs a boost, so you act like Oikawa-fucking-Tooru.”

“What’s he got to do with any of this?”

“Nothing!  Everything. Every-fucking- thing!” With his free hand, he smacked a fist against the side of his head, and then he grabbed Shigeru’s arm, trying to prise off his fingers. “Get off me.”

“No, I want ... look, Kyoutani. Can we talk about this?” He lifted his face to the sky, letting the rain cascade over him, and tried a smile – just a small one – anything to lighten the mood. “Preferably under cover. Doesn’t have to be at the cafe, but maybe we should return and face -”

Daylight diminished as Kyoutani’s face veered into him. For a millisecond, he thought the guy was about to head butt him, but it was too late to flinch. And then his world blurred and divided. For the approach though fast and comprised of fury, was not violent. It was forceful and fierce. Kyoutani crushing Shigeru with his mouth, smashing their lips together, hard and bruising, teeth against teeth.

 “That good enough for your image. THAT what you want, Yahaba-chan? Want to drag me back there for another go!” Kyoutani howled, and taking hold of Shigeru’s arms, he shoved him away – hard so he fell to the ground.

 His hand flew to his lips, checking for blood but the sting was already fading. “What was that for?” Shigeru gasped.

Kyoutani hunched his shoulders, crossing his arms across his chest, and backed away. “You figure it out, fuckwit.”

 “OI! Come back. I don’t understand”

“FUCK OFF!” Kyoutani screamed. He broke into a run, arms powering his stride.

And a flutter of pink napkins fell from his pocket as he made his getaway –sodden, muddy pulp in the gutter.

Slamming his fist on the ground, Shigeru cursed as he got to his feet. His clothes were wet and mud splattered, the rain becoming a torrent down the pavement, but he didn’t move under cover. He stood, hands on hips, utterly aghast at what had just occurred. And although he could have caught up with him, Shigeru stayed where he was, watching as the ball of fury retreated into the distance.

Golden Week was – all of a sudden – not looking so golden after all, but rusted and broken before it had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... wtf happened there? 
> 
> Tune in next time to see if Kyoutani reappears.


	3. Trash Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a good job Yahaba has three wise senpais, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Trash in the title becomes a little more relevant as you read on ...

**1 st May**

_[20:05]_

**Yahaba:** So, everything’s screwed.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Nah, he’ll calm down  
**SassyMakki:** Hopefully  
**MattsunAndChill:** C’mon it’s how Mad-Dog gets off. Arguments and stuff. He’ll be back.  
**SassyMakki:** He did know you had practice, right?  
**Yahaba:** Yes, of course. We were going to go straight from the cafe, but then he ran off  
**MattsunAndChill:** What did Irihata say about that?  
**Yahaba:**  I covered for him.  
**MattsunAndChill:** You can’t do that again.  
**SassyMakki:** Yeah, maybe you need to let Irihata-sensei deal with him now.

Yahaba slumped back against his headboard, gnawing at the side of his thumb. In the seven hours since the date disaster, he’d chewed not only his nails but the skin. Tasting copper, he moved his hand away from his teeth, instead biting his bottom lip, then wincing as again he drew blood.

**Yahaba:** We have games coming up.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Yeah, well. I’m sure it’ll work out.  
**Assikawa:** What’s happened? I’m scrolling back and  
**Assikawa:** Dammit, Iwa-chan! Such an old joke  
**SassyMakki:** Oh you guys!  
**MattsunAndChill:** So cute I’m gonna hurl.

_[20:11]_

**Oikawa:** Better. Hmm, okay, I read through. You’re saying Mad Dog ran off after your ‘date’ and didn’t turn up for practise.  
**Yahaba:** yes.  
**Oikawa:** Why did he run off?  
**MattsunAndChill:** That’s what we’ve been trying to find out.  
**Yahaba:** Things got awkward, that’s all.  
  
He couldn’t type anything else. His cheeks were burning, his fingers trembling, the only bright side to this chat was it wasn’t on webcam.

_They’ve gone quiet. Have they guessed?_

_[20:16]_

**Oikawa:** Did you try calling him?

He gritted his teeth _. What kind of fucking dumbass do you think I am?_

Before he answered, not quite trusting his fingers to remain calm, he took a breath and then punched his pillows – really hard.

_Don’t mention he kissed you. He was walking before he did that. It’s irrelevant._

**Yahaba:** I called and he didn’t answer. I’ve texted. No reply. I got Watari to try, and then Kunimi.  
**Oikawa:** Well, he’s not going to answer Kunimi, is he?  
**MattsunAndChill:** They don’t get on. Why would he?  
**Yahaba:** I mean I borrowed Kunimi’s phone because Kyoutani wouldn’t recognise the number. Thought it might work. Then I tried with a few of the first years’ phones, but ...  
**SassyMakki:** It didn’t.  
**Oikawa:** Good idea, though.  
**Yahaba:** Nope. And now I don’t know if he’ll turn up again  
**Oikawa:** Well, you can’t make excuses for him  
**SassyMakki:** I said that  
**Oikawa:** I know. I’m agreeing.

_[20:21]_

**Oikawa:** I don’t understand something, Shigeru-chan. The plan was a fake date, wasn’t it?  
**Yahaba:** Yes.  
**Oikawa:** But you weren’t supposed to go on it. That was the plan. It was an icebreaker that was all.  
**Yahaba:** Yes.

He wondered if typing that one small word could convey the heaviness now settled on his shoulders.

_[20:23]_

**Oikawa:** So why did you go on the date and at the Cat Cafe of all places?  
**Yahaba:** idk. He said yes and then I couldn’t get out of it.  
**Oikawa:** Why not?  
**Yahaba:** I could hardly ask him out on a fake date and then say ‘Oh, actually, I lied. It was just to see if you had a problem with me’, could I?  
**MattsunAndChill:** You could have changed your mind quite easily.  
**SassyMakki:** Yeah. Even once you’d met up you could have said you couldn’t face anyone - that would have worked.  
**Yahaba:** I know but  
**Oikawa:** Going through with the actual date was not in the plan.  
**Yahaba:** I know.  
**Oikawa:** So why  
**MattsunAndChill:** Why?  
**SassyMakki:** Why did you go?

_Fuck knows._ Closing his eyes, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping in some way to clear his thoughts. But his palm brushed against his mouth, and the impact from Kyoutani’s kiss tingled again.

_Was it always like that?_

_[20:28]_

**Yahaba:** Look, I thought about changing my mind. Kyoutani even gave me out when we got to the cafe door, but then he made it sound as if I was leaving because I was ashamed to be seen with him and

_[20:32]_

**Yahaba:** FUCK IM SCREWED!  
**Oikawa:** Language, kouhai! I have innocent ears  
**MattsunAndChill:** Living with Hajime! Bwahahahahhahahahaha  
**Yahaba:** Take this seriously! What the fuck do I do? We’ve got matches next week, the inter-high starts in June and my fucking ace has fucking walked out on me.

_[20: 39]_

**Yahaba:** Anyone?  
**SassyMakki:** Uhm. I got nothing.  
**Oikawa:** You could go to his house. I used to do that with Iwa-chan when we quarrelled. I’m friendly with his parents, so I’d sit in the kitchen and wait for him to come home.  
**SassyMakki:** poor guy  (ಥ﹏ಥ)  
**Oikawa:** from his long sulk and then we’d talk.  
**Oikawa:** Why are you _always_ on Iwa-chan’s side, Makki?  
**SassyMakki:** He’d stomp off to get away from you and then you’d turn up at his house. How much of a hint did you need that he wanted space? (¬‿¬)  
**Oikawa:** We were ten. I didn’t think of space unless it had aliens in it.  
**MattsunAndChill:** You still don’t.  (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞  
**SassyMakki:** lmao   (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞  
**Oikawa:** ლ(ಠ益ಠლ)  
**MattsunAndChill:** (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

_Okay, get this back on track. Though fuck knows why I’m bothering. They’re about as much use as a chocolate teapot._

_[20:43]_

**Yahaba:** I don’t know where he lives.  
**MattsunAndChill:** that figures. (¬‿¬)  
**SassyMakki:** You mean you haven’t had fake sleepovers –smirk-   
**Yahaba:** thnx.  
**Oikawa:** You really should have a better relationship with your team, Shigeru-chan.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Be fair. He is trying.  
**SassyMakki:** Just the relationship aspect of teamwork has become a little confusing for Mad-Dog.  
**MattsunAndChill:** All that bonding over cute puppy pictures – no wonder he took it the wrong way. *waggles eyebrows* Yahaba-kun, did something else happen...?  
**SassyMakki:** Did you practise some tonsil hockey?  
**Yahaba:** no NO that’s not what happened!

_[20:47]_

**Yahaba:** Look, is Iwaizumi-san there?  
**Oikawa:** why?

Now was not the time to worry about hurt pride.

**Yahaba:** because he knows Kyoutani better than the rest of you – I mean us  
**MattsunAndChill:**   I’m hurt.  
**SassyMakki:** Wounded ... fatally  
**MattsunAndChill:** Shot to the heart  
**SassyMakki:** And you’re to blame  
**Oikawa:** He’s right. And I’m sorry, Shigeru-chan, but Iwa-chan’s visiting his grandma. He’ll be in Miyagi on Thursday.  
**Yahaba:** And you’re coming to watch our matches?  
**Oikawa:** Of course  
**SassyMakki:** That’s the plan.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Add our voices to the cheer squad  
**Yahaba:** ah  
**Oikawa:** I don’t like the sound of that ‘ah’  
**MattsunAndChill:** what’s up  
**Yahaba:** when we were on this fake date I might have managed to upset off Ishigawa-san.  
**SassyMakki:** She’s the new cheer squad leader, right?  
**Yahaba:** um ... yeah.  
**MattsunAndChill:** what have you done?  
**Yahaba:** don’t ask  
**MattsunAndChill:** I am asking  
**SassyMakki:** And I know her brother, so I’ll just ask him

_Oh fuck, and then the whole story will come out. Okay, breathe, I’ll fudge it._

**Yahaba:** she was in the cafe, sat with a group of girls who were

_How did he say it?_

**Oikawa:** who were what?  
**Yahaba:** barracking Kyoutani  
**Oikawa:** Mad Dog?  Did he bite the cheerleaders? Is that the problem?  
**Yahaba:** No, he didn’t. And he doesn’t like your nickname. _That_ is the trouble.  
**Oikawa:** So ...

_I have to say something. Not the kissing stuff, though._

_[20:54]_

**Yahaba:** I kind of touched his face, and he must have thought I’d done it deliberately in front of them ... um ...  that’s when he stormed off.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Face touching, eh?  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**SassyMakki:**  Racy stuff, kouhai! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**Yahaba:** accident.  
**Oikawa:** hmmmm  
**Yahaba:** it was!!

_[20:57]_

**Oikawa:** Ishigawa-chan. I remember her. Very cute girl. She used to bake brownies for me.  
**SassyMakki:** Not just you! She made them for everyone because she knew me!  
**Oikawa:** whatever. She was cute and you shouldn’t upset her. It’s not very captainly.  
**MattsunAndChill:** ‘Captainly’ – that’s a new one. ~(˘▾˘~)  
**SassyMakki:** Definition – when your ramen bill exceeds your allowance because you’re shit at serving. (~˘▾˘)~  
**Oikawa:** I’m ignoring that!   
**Yahaba:** I didn’t mean to upset her, but her friends were ... _horrible!_  
**Oikawa:** diplomacy is part of being a captain. You need to compromise.  
**SassyMakki:** hahaahhahahah – riiiight     
**MattsunAndChill:** *waggles eyebrows*  
**Yahaba:** does it matter?

_[21:05]_

**SassyMakki:** awkward silence alert  
**MattsunAndChill:** *leaps in to cover awkward silence* Soooooooo ... let me get this straight. Your ace and the cheer squad are pissed at you.  
**Oikawa:** What silence? I went to the kitchen.  
**Yahaba:** Yup  
**SassyMakki:** and you have games coming up.  
**Yahaba:** yup.  
**Oikawa:** Anything else?  
**Yahaba:** uh ... well  
**Oikawa:** facepalm  
**MattsunAndChill:** Tell us  
**SassyMakki:** It’ll be better if you do

He closed his eyes, wondering if he could get out of this next bit of news. _Potentially_ the worst part of the day, but he’d hoped it would disappear tomorrow.

_[21:09]_

**Yahaba:** So I told Watari what had happened.  
**MattsunAndChill:** with the face stroking?  
**Yahaba:** Uh, no. He thinks we just met for a chat. Anyway he’s pissed at me too.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Please tell me he’s been doing the dirty with Mad-Dog and has whacked you for moving in on his bf?  
**SassyMakki:** Or he confessed to you and is now heartbroken?  
**Oikawa:** I don’t think you should joke about this. Not only is Watacchi a gentle soul, he’s integral to the team.  
**MattsunAndChill:** He’s got a point. You have to keep the Liberos happy. Short guys always have chips on their shoulders. Just ask Hajime.  
**SassyMakki:** And Mad Dog. Maybe you should date Watari instead. Not a fake date – a real date this time.    
**MattsunAndChill:** With proper face stroking.    
**Yahaba:** PLEASE!

_[21:13]_

**Oikawa:** don’t listen to them!!! What happened, Yahaba-kun?  
**Yahaba:** It’s like this, Watari likes Ishigawa. He has done for weeks and now he’s convinced I’ve blown his chances with her.  
**Oikawa:** and has he ducked out of practice?  
**Yahaba:** no  
**Oikawa:** well, at least that’s something. And if she’s mocking Mad-Dog then she can’t be a suitable person for him.  
**SassyMakki:** But you mock him all the time!  
**MattsunAndChill:** Double standards!!!!  
**Oikawa:** not at all. I was his beloved senpai. It was a bit of fun, that’s all. He knows I rate him.

_No, no, he doesn’t. That’s the problem!_

_[21:15]_

**Yahaba:** brb - phone msg  
**Oikawa:** Mad Dog?  
**Yahaba:** Watari.  
**Oikawa:** well that’s something i suppose. Were we ever as bad as this?  
**MattsunAndChill:** *dies* Hajime used to walk all the time. And you threw a hissy fit when Irihata-san wanted to rest you.  
**Oikawa:** Iwa-chan always came back, and I calmed down quickly enough.  
**SassyMakki:** Mattsun walked out once – end of second year.  
**MattsunAndChill:** Did I?  
**Oikawa:** Why did you do that?  
**MattsunAndChill:** I really can’t remember. What was that about?  
**SassyMakki:** I emptied your water bottle over your head. You took offense.  
**MattsunAndChill:** I didn’t walk out. I refilled my water bottle. Then I got talking to the Basketball guys.  
**Oikawa:** Traitor!  
**Oikawa:** And what was that face for after I mentioned compromise?

_Sheesh, do you guys ever stop?_

 

**< <Soz about this afternoon.>>** Watari had typed.

**_< <S’okay. >>_ **

**< <ur right. If Ishigawa’s part of that group, then I don’t want to know.>>**

**_< <she might not be.>>_ **

**< <yeah, but it’s not cool if her m8s were having a go at Kyoutani >>**

**_< <it wasn’t nice. Gotta say>>_ **

**< < he’s a dick for not turning up, tho. Don’t think coach’ll want to give him another chance.>>**

**_< <yh i know. i need to talk to him. >>_ **

**< <What happened between you?>>**

He huffed out his cheeks, contemplated telling Shinji, who was after all his best mate, but something stopped him. It was the same something that had stopped him fully confiding in his senpais. A tiny seed of guilt sprouting in his head and shame he’d been so dumb.

I should have talked it out – not played games.

**_< <nothing much. i reckon he thought it was a joke on him.>>_ **

**< <he’d be mad at that. u need to xplain>>**

**_< <ill send another txt.>>_ **

**< <s’all u cn do>>**

**_< <mmm>>_ **

**< <btw>>**

**_< <mmm>>_ **

**< <were  you on a date?>>**

**_< <???>>_ **

**< <ahhh>>**

**_< <???>>_ **

**< <u were!>>**

**_< <how do u figure that>>_ **

**< <u didn’t deny it and u didn’t ask me along>>**

**_< <you said we needed to find something in common>>_ **

**< < I meant find your fav Pokémon, or smthg. Not a date chaperoned by Kitty-chan! >>**

**_< <fuck off>>_ **

**< <language, kouhai!>>**

**_< <fuck it u sound just like oikawa>>_ **

**< <ha ha ha ha!>>**  


_[21:25]_

**Oikawa:** Shigeru-chan, what’s happening with Watacchi?  
**Yahaba:**   He’s fine. We’re laughing now.  Look, I’m gonna go and eat my dinner. Thnx for everything.

He closed the window before they began their protests. For all that he was grateful for their advice, at times like this his senpais made his head spin.  Brooding over his phone, he’d just resolved to try Kyoutani again when it gave another beep.

Watari again.  He half smiled-half grimaced at whatever his friend was about to tease him about now.

**< <Shigeru>>**

Oh! Must be serious.

**_< <yeah>>_ **

**< <Look, whatever happens, we still have a good team. If Kyoutani quits, then no one’s gonna b tht surprised.  Ur a gd captain, okay?>>**

He tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, but it was scratchy and raw, dammed up by a well of tears, threatening to spill.

**< <u still there>>**

**_< <yh. Thnx. Ur the best too, Shinji-chan>>_ **

**< < ha ha - now you sound like Oikawa-san!>>**

It was a joke, but for some reason it chimed discordantly in his head.

**< <c u tmrw>>** 

**< <CU>>**  he typed, and rubbed at his eyes.

It was later, when he was lying in bed about to turn off his bedside light, that he decided to try Kyoutani again.  He read through the messages sent, starting with the obvious _‘we have to talk’_ and _‘where r u?’_ to a _‘r u on your way?’_ and a _‘what do u want me to tell Irihata?’_ He’d even added _‘Im sorry if i pissed you off’_ and ended with _‘look let’s forget about this’_ but it was only now he was flicking through them that Kyoutani’s words came back to him.

_“You figure it out, fuckwit!”_

He thought of the boy gritting his teeth, his knuckles white and fiddling with the heavy signet ring. He thought of the rage contained inside of him, the explosive power he unleashed on court, and how – if he’d wanted – he could have let rip in that cafe. But he hadn’t. From what he’d confided, the provocation wasn’t one single incident, but two years worth.

_And now humiliated in front of a teammate._

**< <Kyoutani-san>>** he began.

They’d got on in that cafe, taking time to talk about things other than volleyball. The pictures had been cute, Kyoutani had showed a warm side when sharing them, and when talking about his sister. _All those napkins..._ He thought about that moment before it had all crashed around them. The girl questioning him... his gesture ... touching Kyoutani’s face. How he’d tried to imply and yet not imply. How he’d wanted them to know that Kyoutani wasn’t alone, that he was better than them because he walked away.

But he’d engaged with them.

And how Kyoutani’s lips had pouted into his palm.

_Those girls laughed..._

“Shit! I widened their attack!” The revelation whacked him harder than Oikawa’s serve.

_Now what do I say?_

**< <I’m sorry all right.>>**

No answer.

And an hour later, when he was still staring at the ceiling, he sent one last text.

**< <Please don’t quit.>>**

***

Because during Golden Week, they were expected in every day, Sunday- rather than Monday - had been deemed the volleyball day off for the team. The gym was locked up, and there was no chance of the key without Irihata or Mizoguchi’s permission – which they hadn’t given -  so, Shigeru had set up a session at Little Tykes. It was not compulsory, he’d told the team, and he certainly wasn’t going to frown on anyone who didn’t turn up, but remembering the atmosphere last year, with Oikawa turning it into a team bonding exercise to help the new first years, he encouraged everyone to be on time.

They were there when he arrived (late because he’d stopped off to buy some snacks for them all – just as Oikawa had) and already warming up. Watari had corralled them all onto one court, and was leading a warm up, Kindaichi repeating the instructions when those at the back couldn’t hear.

“Hey guys,” Shigeru said, dumping his cool bag of drinks and carrier of crisps courtside. “Sorry to have kept you.”

“You didn’t,” muttered Watari out of the side of his mouth.

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to apologise,” Shigeru whispered.

“Oikawa never did.”

Hmm, true, but then Oikawa’s lateness, his distractions on the way to court, had been the one thing that had niggled Shigeru.

“Is Kyoutani-san coming?”

It was Kunimi posing the question, peering at Shigeru through his fringe, face expressionless as usual.

“This isn’t a compulsory session,” Shigeru replied calmly, deliberately not catching Watari’s eye.

“I know. It’s just ...” Kunimi trailed off, nodding his head forwards so his hair flopped over his face.

“What’s the matter, Kunimi-kun?”

“He wasn’t there yesterday and ... uh ...”

He lifted his head up, and now the look in his eyes was wary, eyelids flicking from side to side.

On the pretext of stretching his arms, Shigeru shifted further away from the group, gesturing with his head for Kunimi to come closer.

“What’s up?” he asked again.

“It’s not like last year with the senpais,” Kunimi muttered. “Then I was fitting in around them, now it’s ... uh ...”

“I know,” he replied, and let out a breath. Clapping his hand on Kunimi’s shoulder, he gave him a grim sort of smile. “Look, we’re _all_ trying to build a team here. And we need to work with new people. You and me, for instance, have played together a handful of times and you have more court time than me, but we’re making it work, aren’t we?”

“Mmm.”

“You’re important – you showed that last year. Now finish your warm-up, and then we’ll start with receives. The first years still have a long way to go until they reach Hanamaki-san standard.”

With a sharp (well, it was sharp for him) nod, Kunimi stepped back to the group. “Th-thank you.”

 “Things sorted?” muttered Watari out of the side of his mouth.

“Kyoutani’s not replied to any messages, if that’s what you’re asking,” Shigeru replied. “And unless you know where he lives, I’m out of options.”

 

The session continued reasonably well. The first years were enthusiastic and had talent. One was a Setter from the same school Kunimi and Kindaichi had come from, and he’d bowed low to them on entering the gym, unsure of his reception. Now he was smiling, happy to be at such a prestigious club and eager to follow instruction.

_But I don’t know how to help you,_ Shigeru thought, chewing his lip. _I don’t have Oikawa-san’s eye. I don’t have his quick way of assessing what you need._

_And if we want to achieve anything this year, then fuck do we need to improve._

“Face like thunder, Yahaba-kun. What’s up?” Watari said jogging backwards up to him.

“Wondering why I thought this session was a good idea,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what I can show them.” He shot Watari a tight smile. “Forget I said that, will you?”

Clicking his tongue, Watari touched him on the arm. “We’re all here – practically – why do you think that is?”

“It’s Golden Week.”

“Yeah, but this is our day off. No one had to come. It’s not a club requirement.” The touch on his arm turned to a squeeze.

“Gluttons for punishment? No lives?”

Watari grinned at him and punched Shigeru on the arm. “Well, there’s that, but maybe it’s because we’re a team, and you’re the captain.” He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not Oikawa. I can’t lead like him.”

“Yeah, but the new guys have no idea what he was like, and as long as you don’t give us all dumb nicknames, then ...”

“You don’t like Watacchi?” Shigeru asked, feigning innocence with his eyes wide and a pout of his lips.

“Maybe when I was five.” Watari snorted, and turning away, he gestured to the team. “What was your idea for getting us together?”

“Getting to know each other a bit more. Last year Oikawa-san made this a lot of fun.”

“He could afford to. The team was more or less fixed, don’t you remember? We’re still evolving. Irihata knows that. Mizoguchi knows that. Last year Kindaichi and Kunimi had already made the team. This time around, we have two or three guys who could be Middle Blocker and there are some promising Wing Spikers, too.”

Something must have shown in his face because although he’d tried to remain blank, Watari sighed and again squeezed his arm. “You’ll find another Ace, you know?”

“Why aren’t you captain? You make so much more sense than me.”

He grinned broadly. “Perks of being a Libero, mate. We don’t have to think of any of this shit off court. Frees us up to be responsible on court so we can cover your asses!”

Suddenly feeling much lighter, because the fact of Watari on court was a blessing, Shigeru clapped his hands together. He didn’t get everyone’s attention immediately, but by raising his voice and throwing a glare at two of the chatting first years, they all gathered around him in quick time.

“Abukara, Fujiwara- and Chikanatsu, I think ...”  _No, stop with the ‘think’ be more positive._ “You’re to practise blocking. Kindaichi, will help you out. Gensai and Hattori, you stay this side of the net with me and Kunimi. I’ll set along with Morri. It’s not a match, but I want you guys to try and get past their wall. And you –“ He pointed to the prospective Middle-Blockers. “You are going to block the shit out of everything that comes your way.” Grinning, he jammed his thumb back at Kunimi. “This guy’s speciality is feints, so watch it, okay?”

Turning back so his team of Blockers couldn’t see, Shigeru whispered to Kunimi, “If you get a chance, then slam it down. Also avoid Kindaichi as he knows your style inside out.”

“Sure.” He gave a small bow, not looking entirely happy, but then with Kunimi it was hard to tell.

“I know it’s not your usual way of playing, but I want to mix things up for the new guys, okay,” he continued, not adding that what he also needed was a decent assessment of Kunimi’s power.

“And us, Captain-san?” Watari questioned, standing with the other two Liberos.

“Guard our asses, Watacchi,” he replied, smiling sweetly, then laughing when Watari shuddered.  “The rest of you, have a break.”

As practise sessions went, this part of it was successful – to a point. The Middle Blockers might have been disorganised, and not able to time their jumps unless Kindaichi led them (especially against Kunimi) but with height and strength on their side, they managed to score more points by stopping than their opponents. (Not that Shigeru was keeping score - well, he was, for some reason he couldn’t help it, but he told them it was all for fun so never relayed any information.) The Wing-Spikers tried, but they lacked experience. Hattori could jump high, but he preferred placing the ball than slamming it down, and Gensai could certainly thump the ball, but didn’t have the eye to aim it well. Points he scored were by luck rather than design, and at the end of this segment, he sat on the grass swigging water and trying to hide his dejection.

“You won’t face four blockers on court, remember that,” Shigeru told him, then he frowned a little. “How much volleyball have you played?”

“Uh...” Gensai became very interested in the grass, pushing his nails into the mud, which despite yesterday’s rain, was already hardening. “Not much. I played basketball at Junior High, but used to come here and play with friends.”

“Ah, so were you recruited by the Basketball coach?”

He shook his head. “Entrance exam. Does this make a difference?”

“Um, only if you’re thinking about quitting volleyball for basketball.”

Gensai shook his head, and now he looked up at Shigeru, his eyes gleaming.  “I like volleyball. I always have. There’s  something so much better about slamming a ball down for points than throwing it in a hoop.”

_I like you. Right spirit, right attitude and wants to improve. Ace material ... but not yet._

A small cough interrupted his ruminations. “Excuse me, Yahaba-san.”

“Mmm, Hattori-kun?” He looked up to discover three of the first years clumped together, the Setter, Morri, pushing Hattori forwards.

_Oh-oh, what’s this about?_

“It’s about Kyoutani-san.”

“What about him?” he stayed on the grass, fixing his expression into one Watari had dubbed ‘Stern-senpai-don’t-mess-with-me-’ mode.

“H-he’s not here.”

“And wasn’t yesterday,” Morri chipped in, before slinking behind Chikanatsu.

“He’s busy,” Shigeru snapped. “And it’s not your place to question an upper classman’s movements!”

“Oh, we wondered if he was away for Golden Week and ... uh ... what that meant for the practice matches...” Hattori trailed off, his cheeks flushed.

_Oh, fuck, he just wants to play. Fucking dumbass, Shigeru!_

“Irihata-sensei will make a decision on Wednesday or Thursday just before we play. We’re most likely to mix things up, anyway. Wakatun are a team in flux, too, so these games are more to try things out,” he replied, hoping he sounded calm.

“About Kyoutani-san quitting...”

Clamping his mouth shut to prevent himself from shouting as Kindaichi joined the conversation, Shigeru got to his feet. Of all the things to say, Kindaichi’s had to be the most tactless. He got on well with the guy, but his idea of team tactics and keeping players sweet was laughable.

“Is that a question, Kindaichi?” he fired. “Are you seriously suggesting our Ace has quit?”

“What’s going on?” Watari cried.

“I have no idea, only I’m getting questions about Kyoutani-san from all quarters, and I have no fricking idea why. I’m Captain of this team and not his fricking keeper!”

“Uh ... Yahaba-san ...” Kindaichi swallowed and fiddled with his fingers. “Senpai, I wasn’t questioning you.”

“Really? It seemed like that to me!”

“Uh ... no ... it’s ... uh ... just ... uh ...” He stepped back, his face now the colour of radishes.

“Spit it out, Kindaichi!” Shigeru ordered, hoping to quell the fears because hell knew everyone had suddenly begun to fidget and back away.

“What he’s trying to tell you,” someone said behind him, “is that I’m here. Sorry I’m late, _Captain_ , but I was busy.”

“Kyoutani!” He swivelled round, hope and disbelief vying with each other. “You’re here!”

“Wow, am I?”

“Nii-chan, you promised me soda.” A girl appeared from behind him. A girl with dark brown hair tied back in tight bunches, a smattering of freckles across her nose and a belligerent expression on her face. She was decked, head to toe, in various shades of pink – only her trainers gave a little relief, adding some purple and silver to the fuchsia hues.“Why are we here?”

“Because I told you I had stuff to do,” Kyoutani muttered. He glanced at Shigeru, then turned to the rest of the team. “Guys, this is my sister. She’s gonna watch and behave herself, okay.”

“I might,” she said sulkily jutting out her bottom lip. “Looks really boring to me. I wanna go home play with Dango’s puppies.”

“Yeah, well, they need to sleep,” Kyoutani said darkly. “Sit down. I’m already late.”

Her face tight and mutinous, Kyoutani’s sister looked for all the world as if she would have run except for the fact that his hand was clamped on her shoulder.  Kyoutani was glowering, his eyebrows one solid line across his forehead, and despite the lack of eyeliner, he looked somehow more ferocious without his war paint.

Shigeru stared down at her. As an only child, and without any cousins either, he had no idea about kids, and had either dismissed them, or ever so slightly feared them. Kyoutani’s sister, he thought, belonged in the latter group, a child who would kick off and kick him if he made the wrong move. And then he saw her hand clutching onto the strap of Kyoutani’s kitbag, and he realised she wasn’t going anywhere.

“There’s a coolbag full of sodas and juice over there, if you’d like one,” he said, speaking directly to her. “I’m Yahaba-san.”

Screwing up her nose, she studied him, her frown didn’t lessen. “I’ve heard of you. And Iwaizumi-san. Where’s he?”

“Left last year,” Kyoutani interrupted, and pushed her away with his knuckles. “Michiko-chan, go and sit down, all right?”

She stalked to the side, barging her way past Watari, much to his amusement, then as he followed, and helped her take the lid off the cool box, she helped herself to a drink and commandeered the bench.

“I couldn’t leave her,” Kyoutani said.  “And for some reason those fucking trainers were the only ones she’d wear, and they took forever to find.”

“Is that an apology?” Shigeru replied, and with a twist of his lips, he tried to turn this into a joke. “Only it’s fine, this wasn’t comp -”

But Kyoutani was having none of it. “I’m not quitting – whatever you think. And you don’t have to be my keeper, all right?”

“You heard that?”

“I think the whole of Little Tykes heard you, Yahaba.” He let his bag fall to the floor, then dropped to the ground to tighten his lace. “I missed Saturday. Is sensei angry?”

“No, I covered for you.”

“What?”

“Told him you had a family emergency.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t make fucking excuses for me, I don’t need your help, got that!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shigeru murmured. He could see the others getting restless now, but he needed to clear the air, even if it was just a pinhole in the smog between them. “I get it, but ... look, Kyoutani, we should talk. How about after this we –”

“With my sister in tow? Great move!”

“Ah, yeah, sorry. This evening, then?”

Kyoutani finished retying his shoe. He inhaled and then shot Shigeru a glance. “We’re on the same team. That’s it.”

“But we should talk about this.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” Kyoutani said, his lips barely moving.

“No... of course not. What happened at the cafe and ... uh ... outside ...  we should talk -”

“You talk all you like, Yahaba. I’m here for volleyball, nothing else.”

 

Kyoutani’s arrival stirred everything and everyone up. Not that this surprised Shigeru in the slightest, for he had the kind of on-court personality that could either create or destroy, depending on whose side you were on, or what your starting mood was. For the first years, not knowing the history, he might have been angry and uncommunicative, but his presence leant them energy and they basked in his power. Kindaichi and Kunimi accepted him, but with trepidation, both having been on the receiving end of his bruising style of play. There was an appreciation from Kindaichi, and bemusement from Kunimi, that Kyoutani gave his all. And then there was Watari, who said nothing, but gave Kyoutani a half wave and squatted on the grass next to his sister.

Having arrived late, Kyoutani still threw himself into a three-on-three, working alongside Kindaichi and Morri as Setter, and even high-fived his teammates when he powered one past Shigeru’s side. He’d been known the year before as a slow starter, not able to get himself into gear, but under the sun, he looked relaxed and surprisingly calm, not even swearing. Of course, his lack of cursing could have been down to his sister on the sidelines, who was chattering away to Watari as both of them set out the drinks and snacks for the team.

In fact, it was all going very well. Kyoutani had subbed out of the three-on-three for Abukara, and was watching them all intently. Casting him a side glance, while he waited for Kindaichi’s serve, Shigeru watched him rolling his shoulders, and then circling his hips, keeping himself loose as he waited for the next chance to run on.

_It’s gonna be fine._

They all took a break, Michiko sharing out the snacks as if she were a dinner lady from Aobajousai, utterly fair but aghast when they messed up her arrangement.  Kyoutani sat with her, slightly apart from the group, and handing her money when she started to fidget.

“They sell gari gari-kun at the kiosk.”

“Can I get manga, too?”

He glanced at the money, then handed more over. “Just one, and I want change.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, when she was half way across the court. “Parents are away all week, so I’m in charge.”

“It’s fine,” Shigeru replied. “This isn’t official,  but ... um ... it might be an issue tomorrow ... if they’re away all week.”

“S’alright, Dad’s around tomorrow.” He gulped at his water, then jamming the cap back on it, he cast another glance his sister’s way, watching her progress. “We live with our mum and step-dad.”

“Oh. I ... had no idea. Sorry.”

_Wow, that explains a lot. Broken home kid, eh?_

Kyoutani shrugged. “I’m not. Better to split than be fucking miserable.”

The conversation turned to Golden Week, Kindaichi wondering what Wakatun’s line up would be like. Another powerhouse school, they had depth – just as Seijou did – but the teams had rarely faced each other competitively.

“They’ve always been a clever team,” Watari said. “Should be a good game.”

Kyoutani shifted back, then stretched out his legs on the grass. And although there were opportunities for him to talk, Watari asking him directly once if he’d heard anything new about their opponents, he shook his head rather than offering an opinion.

Did it matter that he still seemed apart from them all? Oikawa had made an effort to include everyone, insisting the volleyball club was a team not just on court, but in practice and outside of school. And he remembered their first year at Seijou, the team outings deemed important for spirit.

“I got you one, nii-chan,” Michiko said, dropping a popsicle on the grass in front of him. “It’s pineapple.”

“Cool,” Kyoutani replied, and tearing off the wrapper, he crunched down hard, sending several yellow splinters of ice down his shirt.

In their first year, Kyoutani had come to the first team outing, Shigeru remembered. They’d gone bowling, something their senpais had been good at. And it would have been fun, but they’d only booked two lanes, and far from it being a team outing, it became the third years on one lane, the second years on another, and the first years split between them. Shigeru and Watari had struck it lucky joining Oikawa’s team, but Kyoutani had landed with the third years and while he’d – even then – had power and strength, his technique had led the ball scooting down the side channels, amid a lot of laughter.

_He was sent to get drinks. We all were._

But Kyoutani had mucked up one of the orders and then he’d tripped (Or been tripped, Shigeru couldn’t quite remember) and the virulent blue soda he’d been carrying had emptied over him, drenching his shirt. Someone had thrown him serviettes, laughing all the while, but the shirt – a volleyball shirt emblazoned with a four and in team colours Shigeru hadn’t recognised – had remained resolutely blue.  And Kyoutani’s face had been a study in sadness and frustration.

_That was when he started skipping. Wasn’t it?_

One or two others had dropped out. Oikawa - taking Shigeru to one side a few months ago – had warned him there’d always be some who found the going too tough and found a different club activity. On the whole they were kids like Gensai, who’d not played much before but liked the idea of it. But Kyoutani’s refusal to come back had struck at the ethos of the team. He was extremely talented – everyone knew that – but it was clear that if he couldn’t conform, then he wouldn’t be tolerated.

 

The session continued. To Shigeru’s surprise, Kyoutani offered to take some of the first years to practise serves. He wasn’t a good instructor, at least he couldn’t _talk_ through the steps necessary to serve, but he could show them, and he did – several times. A run up, a toss, a jump and then he snapped forwards, his shirt riding up his back as he powered the ball to the opposite corner of the court.

“Whoa, he’s good,” Watari murmured. “I forget that sometimes.”

“When he’s on form, I doubt there’s anyone in the prefecture can match him for serves,” Shigeru replied. “Well, possibly Kageyama.”

“And that’s the problem, right?”

“Hmm?”

“Keeping him on form. And interested.”

Shigeru nodded and watched from the sidelines a little longer, loathe to stop the practice because Kyoutani at full stretch, his whiplash action and rippling muscles mesmerised him.

The session over, they trooped to the sidelines to collect their bags and hoodies, all smiles and exhaustion to find Michiko had taken it on herself to clear up. Splitting the bottles into one bag for recycling, she filled another with popsicle wrappers and crisp packets and juice cartons, then beckoned to her brother.

Whispering something in his ear, she waited for him to nod, before both of them set off. “We’ll get rid of this stuff. See you tomorrow,” he called out, and without waiting for anyone to say goodbye, he strode away, following his sister.

The tension left Shigeru’s shoulders.

_He’ll be around tomorrow._

“Yahaba-san?”

“What is it, Hattori?” he asked, not tearing his eyes away from the retreating figure of his ace.

“I found this on the ground. Shall I hand it in at reception?”

“Hmm?” Blinking, he studied the object in Hattori’s palm - round and glinting, untarnished but undoubtedly old with an engraving all but worn away. “Oh... no, that’s Kyoutani’s. I’ll-”

He snatched the signet ring and without a moment’s thought, he broke into a run, catching the pair of them just as they reached the main building. “Kyoutani-kun.”

“Yeah.” He half turned, throwing a glance over his shoulder, then scowled seeing who it was. “What d’you want?”

“You left this!”

“Huh?”

“Nii-chan,” Michiko growled, hopping from foot to foot.

“Go. I’ll dump the trash and see you by the kiosk,” he said, pushing her forwards.

As Shigeru came to a halt in front of them, Michiko dropped her bags and made a run for it. The bottles spilt on the paving, the wrappers getting caught in the breeze, so he and Kyoutani collected as many as they could, stuffing them back in the carrier bags.

“Your ring,” Shigeru said at last, and held it out to him. “It must have dropped out your pocket again.”

“Thanks.” Accepting it, he pushed it onto his middle finger, twisting it a little. “Must get more tape or I’m gonna lose it for real.”

They stood together but apart, Shigeru wracking his brain for something to say.

“Your sister’s ... uh ...”

“Not cute. She might like pink, but if you call her that, she’ll whack you,” he muttered. “Sorry if she disrupted things.”

He didn’t sound sorry, more belligerent as he dared Shigeru to complain.

“It wasn’t a problem,” Shigeru assured him, and straightening up he picked up one of the bags.  “And she cleared up for us.”

“I can take that,” Kyoutani said, holding out his hand.

“S’fine,” Shigeru replied.

The tension in Kyoutani’s shoulders had returned, but instead of arguing he shrugged then started to walk in the direction of the garbage bins around the side of the main block.

“That ring’s important to you, right?”

“It was my granddads.”

“Ah, I understand. Must mean a lot.”

“What is this? A deep and meaningful? I said thanks.”

“Last time, you said you owed me,” Shigeru said, trying a joke.

_Oh, bad move. Fuck, his face is ... I can feel that scowl from here._

“And that turned out great, didn’t it?” Kyoutani replied. He turned left and into the walled off section which housed the large dumpsters.

Shigeru followed, wondering whether now was the time to talk before the fog swirling between them thickened again. “Not great, I agree.”  _Okay, hit it till it breaks._ “Look, I really should apologise. I had no idea about those girls and –”

“Forget it.”

“But I want you to understand that I wasn’t ... um ... I wasn’t ...”

“You got that girl off your back, so it’s fine.”

“What?  Oh ... yeah ... she’s not going to bother me again. Thanks.”

“Then we’re square.” Reaching  out, he wrested at Shigeru’s rubbish bag from his hand.“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’m not quitting.”

“Uh... right ... yeah ... then ... um ...”

“Bye.”

The farewell wasn’t needed to convey just how uncomfortable Kyoutani felt with Shigeru hanging around him, and so he stepped away and prepared to get back to the others.  He was eager to leave, mainly – he realised – because Kyoutani’s disinclination to talk, meant he was off the hook, too, and he wouldn’t have to try to understand why they’d kissed, whether it meant anything at all to either of them.

Leaving was by far the best option. He’d see Kyoutani tomorrow. As a teammate. That was all. And if he planned any more team trips like this, he’d make sure to tell him – tell everyone – they weren’t compulsory.

And he wouldn’t need to analyse the swoops and highs that had danced inside of him when Kyoutani had kissed his palm.

Or wonder what a real kiss would be like. One not fuelled by rage and misunderstanding.

“Kyoutani?”

“You still here?” He swung the bag full of wrappers into the open dumpster.

“Yeah, I ...”

_Don’t do this. It’s fucking stupid._

“What?”

“I ... I liked spending time with you,” he settled for.

“Really?” Disbelief writ large on his face, Kyoutani walked across the recycling bin and he posted the first bottle inside.

“Yeah, it was kind of fun.”

“Su-ur-re.”

“Apart from the girls, obviously,” he babbled. “Although ... uh ... look if we put our heads together then I’m sure we could think of something. The guys would help, too. We could get them off your back quite-”

He shovelled another bottle in the bin, but as he picked up another, he fumbled it and it rolled back to Shigeru.

“Here,” Shigeru said, handing it back.

“First month at Aobajousai, I got a confession letter,” Kyoutani muttered, staring at the bottle in his hands. “Pink envelope, pretty flowers and hearts on it. Embarrassing. I found it in my locker and I was –like –freaking out and really had no idea what I’d do, ‘cause going out with a girl, having to deal with that type of thing was scary, you know?”

Shigeru nodded. He’d had a few himself, which most times he managed to ignore, or else he’d smile at the girl and say he was too busy but how flattered he was.

“It was kind of nice as well. Like there was some girl out there that liked me. I mean liked me enough to confess, and that kind of thing hadn’t happened before.”

“What happened?” 

_Had he had a girlfriend? I never heard anything, but then why would I?_

“So, anyway, after thinking about it, I thought ‘open it’ what’s the harm? I’ll work out what to do, when I see what’s inside.”

“Mmm. And?”

“One word.”

“What?”

“’Loser.’”

“Ah ... not nice.”

“I screwed it up. Threw it in the bin and just ... dunno ... put it down to a random arsehole.”

“Which it probably was.”

“Yeah, got less random after that. More letters. Same thing. Didn’t bother opening them after a while, just chucked ‘em away.” Scrunching the bottle in his hand, he shoved it into the bin, then heaved in a breath. “Notes were fine. Silly girls having a laugh, they’d get bored if I didn’t react – my sensei said.”

“But they didn’t.”

“Well, I kind of reacted, I s’pose. One day there were something like twenty letters waiting for me at lunchtime, and instead of throwing them away, I got angry. The girls were watching y’see, and ... uh ... I crumpled them all up, went outside and ... uh ... set light to them. The bin caught fire and ... that was it.”

“You set fire to the school?”

“Hardly. Some second year kid threw his juice on it, but then another told the sensei and she stopped being supportive. Labels stick, you know. Loser. Delinquent ... Mad Dog.”

“And the girls haven’t been talked to?”

“Probably.” He shrugged. “I dunno. It didn’t make a difference. Things calmed down a bit middle of second year, I dunno if that was to do with rejoining volleyball, but having something to do at lunchtimes kept me away from them. Even Oikawa’s nickname wasn’t a problem  - not at first - ‘cause only you guys knew about it, and he was the only one that used it. But ... uh ... they found out after we lost, and ... I wasn’t just a loser but ...” He stared bleakly at his hands.” Valentine’s Day is fucking wonderful. I’m the most popular guy in school and can barely open my locker. Andthey found out my mobile number and as quick as I blocked them, they found more people to join their group.

“I’ve changed my phone now, but I still don’t answer if the caller’s unknown.”

“I really didn’t know any of this.”

“Yeah, well, you talk a lot, Yahaba, but I don’t think you listen.” He sniffed. “Boys are supposed to be able to take it, right? They catcall in class and even the sensei has to stop herself from laughing. Anyway, excuse me of I don’t prostrate myself in gratitude at your offer, but I’ve managed two years, and in eleven months I can say goodbye to this fucking school.”

“I’m ...”  He wanted to say sorry, but it was too inadequate a word and Kyoutani would only throw it back in his face because it really wasn’t anything to be pitied for, more angered by, Shigeru thought.

He cleared his throat and very slowly placed his hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder, urging him to look straight at him. And what he’d meant to do was merely assure him he wasn’t a loser, that on the contrary he was Seijou’s ace, their winner and he was going to storm through every fricking wall he faced.

But as Kyoutani twisted his head, his chin touched Shigeru’s hand, faint bristle grazing his fingers, and the words stuck in Shigeru’s throat.

Ad then, as if this were a film or some third rate shoujo manga, Shigeru tilted forward and pressed his lips to Kyoutani’s cheek.

“What the...”

“Sorry,” Shigeru whispered, not yet backing away. “Shall I stop?”

His lips inched towards Kyoutani’s mouth. Shigeru felt the minutest of shivers but was unsure if they were coming from him or Kyoutani – perhaps both.

“Yaha- ”

Whatever he’d been about to say or do was lost as a clang sounded behind them. Both jumped apart, and swivelled to face the interloper, who’d no doubt appeared to dispose of rubbish.

Keep calm and smile brightly, Shigeru thought, repressing the giggle threatening to escape from his stomach.

A giggle and brightness that vanished as soon as he saw her.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” Ishigawa shrieked, and blushing profusely, she turned away far too quick, falling to the ground in her eagerness to run.

And then Kyoutani shoved him hard away, and picking up the bag containing the last few plastic bottles, he threw them against the wall. “Another fucking set-up, Yahaba. Thanks so fucking much.”

“No... NO. THAT’S NOT IT.”

“Then why’s she here?” Kyoutani demanded, his voice raising an octave. “Gonna tell your gang, Ishigawa-san!”

“No, please,” she whimpered and struggled to her feet. “Yahaba-san, Kyoutani-san, I knew you had a practise here today, and I’m only here because Watari-san told me where you were.”

“So you could what? Have another laugh. Tell the whole school about me. Like I care. Like I give a fuck about any of this!”

“Kyoutani,” Shigeru pulled on his arm. “Ishigawa-san is ... uh ... look, she’s not with anyone. Maybe she’s not connected with the others.”

“I’m really not. I wanted to apolo -”

He snarled at them both. His eyes narrow and furious, he thrust Shigeru to one side. “You wanna know why I thought we were there?” he yelled. “Because this arsehole said he didn’t have the guts to tell you to leave him alone.”

_Oh shit!_

“What?” she asked, blinking with utter bewilderment .

“Uh ... it’s nothing ...” Shigeru tried to intervene.

But Kyoutani’s blood was up. “You and your friends hassling him in corridors, desperate for dates. He told me about it. What, you’re desperate to prove he’s not gay, or something? Add him to your little score charts.”

“I really don’t understand-”

“It was fake date, all right, just to get you off his back! He wouldn’t go near me otherwise, nor me him, so fucking take that and-”

But now her ire was up, and instead of crumpling under these revelations and Kyoutani’s attack, Ishigawa straightened her shoulders and, one hand on her hip, vented her fury - a match for Kyoutani in every respect.

“I am not, and never have been, after Yahaba-san,” she spat, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “I have not ever hassled him, and I don’t remember _any_ of my friends doing so, either. Whatever reason you had for your _date_ , it had nothing to do with me.” And then she faced Shigeru, and following Kyoutani’s lead, she shoved him on the floor. “How dare you! I was trying to get a cheer squad together for the team because Watari-san said you all needed support, but you tell tales about me like this! Well ... screw you. And screw your team!”

“No no noooooo,” whimpered Shigeru from the floor. He didn’t bother getting up to chase after her, pretty sure one of them would only knock him down again.

“Kyoutani,” he tried.

“Fuck off.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“You didn’t need a fake date at all, did you?”

“Uh ... well ...”

“It was a fucking set up all along.”

 “Look, I need to explain-”

“It’s always you. It’s always something you fucking need,” Kyoutani seethed. He ripped off his training jacket, balling it up to throw on the ground. “Well, now you need a new ace, ‘cause I’m fucking done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How in the name of all that's Seijou, is this going to come right in one chapter? 
> 
> Can Shigeru fix this? Can anyone? Do I have control any more? 
> 
> What he needs is a miracle. What he needs is ...


	4. The Senpais have Landed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yahaba needs help so guess who turns up?
> 
> ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
> 
> (Maybe not such a good idea, Shigeru)

“Why here of all places?”

“Scene of the crime,” Oikawa replied, and leaning forwards, he waggled his eyebrows.

_Oh, don’t start. If this turns into a real life online chat, I’m leaving._

“I don’t need to retrace my steps,” Shigeru said, kicking the table leg. He knew he was behaving like a five year old, but close to breaking point,  he’d resorted to sulking now.“I’ve fucked up. End of.”

“Very defeatist of you, kouhai,” Oikawa mused. He chuckled a little, then bending down, he picked up a cat from the floor, holding it to his chest. “You are very beautiful, aren’t you, pusskin.”

Despite being the cat that preferred to stare loftily at the cafe occupants, the Siamese purred contentedly in Oikawa’s arms, rubbing its head across his shoulder. 

_Bloody typical!_

Shigeru slouched back into his chair. He’d ordered black coffee this time, and unable to stir at foam with a spoon, he’d taken to chewing his nails again.

It was Tuesday – late afternoon – and after receiving a message from Oikawa, he’d fled practise and meandered his way here, grateful for the chance to escape, but cringing with embarrassment at the scene for the rendezvous.  They weren’t in the chintz corner (for which he was supremely grateful) nor in the ‘jazz catz’ section (he’d refused to sit at the only table available in that area) so Oikawa had led him to a far more functional space, with power points, desk space, and cat perches like steps up the wall. They sat at a larger table, so there’d be no mistaking _them_ for a couple, Shigeru fathomed. There were, fortunately, no barracking girls this time, but a few faces he vaguely knew from school, had stopped in front of their table to smile at Oikawa and wish him well.

As always Oikawa had smiled back, exchanging a word or two and returning the girls’ sentiments with warmth. It was after the third girl had left their side, that Shigeru saw the flicker of disinterest in Oikawa’s eyes, a disinterest that the girl wouldn’t have picked up on, and he marvelled at how well Oikawa could make an individual feel.

“Mad-Dog hasn’t turned up to practise then?”

He muttered a ‘no’.

“And Watacchi?”

“There, but still not talking to me. He found out what I’d said about Ishigawa-san and ... Yeah, yeah, I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Hmm, maybe not.” Running his hands over the cat’s back, Oikawa waited until it was settled on his lap before continuing.  “You only told that tale to Mad-Dog, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. It was still stupid. I shouldn’t have mentioned any name, but she was ... I guess she was on my mind.”

“Really?” Oikawa’s eyes widened and Shigeru could see the tip of his tongue poking through his teeth.

“Not like that. Watari had been talking about her, so hers was the first name that came to mind. I never dreamt she’d actually be in here!”

“Yes, I can see how that might happen, particularly as my adorable kouhai is not very good at lying, are you, Shigeru-chan?”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” he muttered.

“Three things,” Oikawa replied, and held up three fingers. “One – you had plenty of opportunity to cancel the so-called date.”

“I already told you-”

“Two,” Oikawa interrupted. “Something else went on that you’ve not told your senpais.” He leant forwards, momentarily causing the cat to stretch out its paw in protest. “Not that I’m surprised. Mattsun and Makki are _dreadful_ gossips.”

“And three?” Shigeru asked through his fingers.

“Three is that if I can tell when you’re lying, then Irihata certainly can. Did you cover for Mad Dog again?”

“Yes.” Leaning on his hands, Shigeru stared at the window. The fat tabby had gone, a grey fluffy beast in its place. It turned and he recognised Kiri, but he took one look then with utter disdain looked away. “I said I didn’t know the details but that he had his sister to look after.”

“Hmm. That’s two days, Shigeru-chan, _three_ if you count Saturday.”

“It’s not exactly a lie. He brought his sister with him on Sunday. His mum and step-dad are away.  Hey, did you know he didn’t live with his dad?”

“It was mentioned,” Oikawa said airily. “And I made it my job to find out about my fellow team members. You, for instance, used to ride a purple bicycle to school but you stopped shortly after your sixteenth birthday when you crashed into a tree.”

“How did you... I don’t remember telling you that,” spluttered Shigeru. The wheel had been bent out of shape, and by the time he’d bothered to get it fixed, he’d discovered walking was more fun because he met Watari on the way.

“I listened, “Oikawa replied. “You missed one training session and weren’t in school, then you turned up on the Monday covered in bruises on your thigh and a grazed forearm on the same side. You were telling Watacchi all about it when you came in the locker room, although you kept quiet as soon as you saw the senpais.” His lips twitched. “I realised, just how tenacious you were, that day. You could have claimed you were too injured to practise, but you kept at it, _and_ did your share of the clearing up.”

The Siamese, clearly getting bored now Oikawa’s attention was elsewhere, jumped off his lap and slunk away to find his lofty perch.

“Irihata-sensei will appreciate your loyalty to a teammate,” Oikawa said, wiping his hands on a napkin, “but not at the expense of the team. You _have_ to make a contingency plan.”

“I’m trying.” He sighed and sipped his coffee. “Gensai’s one of the new guys. I think he could be good. Very little experience, but he’s strong and ... dunno, I like his attitude.”

“Looking forward is always good, Shigeru-chan, but I’m thinking of something more immediate before this team _implodes_ on you.” With an adroit flick of his wrist, Oikawa summoned the waitress. On anyone else, Shigeru thought, the gesture would have seemed arrogant, but such was Oikawa’s charisma, he made it seem charming – certainly, the waitress smiled back at him and made her way over in quick time.

“Could we order a plate of cakes, please?”he asked. “A mixture as they all look so yummy that I’m sure it would take all day to choose.”

“I’m not hungry,” Shigeru muttered.

“Well, I am,” he replied and turned back to the waitress. “Six would be lovely, if you’d be so kind. Oh, and maybe some cookies, too.”

“My pleasure,” she said, her cheeks dimpling at him.

_All those cakes._ Shigeru’s eyelid began to twitch. Oikawa was being very ... imperious, he thought the word was. It was as if they were just about to step out on court and he was setting the stage before he gave his speech and spoke his fateful words...

_‘I’m counting on-’_

“Oh, look, there’s Makki.”

_Huh?_

“What!” He swivelled round just in time to see Hanamaki pushing open the door, and swerving around a black cat who’d trotted across to investigate.

“Hanamaki-san came back, too, didn’t you know, Shigeru-chan?” Oikawa replied, his words dripping with honey.

“No, I thought it was just you and Iwaizumi-san,” he said, and feeling resigned, he shuffled his chair nearer the window to give them more room.  “I suppose Matsukawa-san is with him.”

“Not at the moment, unless he’s massively changed his appearance for the better.”

It was then that Shigeru caught sight of Hanamaki’s companion. Much shorter than he, slender and with dark curls – a little unruly – she looked very much as she had the last time he’d seen her. Face like a thundercloud, and seemingly gunning for a storm.

“Can I leave? I don’t think I can take Ishigawa-san shouting at me again,” he muttered.

“Hmm, that would be a little rude and would not solve any of your problems in the slightest. Besides, you wanted my help, and this is it.” Getting to his feet, Oikawa bowed as Ishigawa stepped towards the table. After Hanamaki pulled out a chair for her, she sat down – next to Oikawa– but  despite being diagonally opposite, she didn’t so much as glance at Shigeru.

His ankle hurt – a sharp kick from Oikawa reminding him that this was his fault and he had to make amends.

“Ishigawa-san,” he began. “I want to-”

“Cakes and cookies,” sang their waitress, setting down a platter of the prettiest and most sickly looking creations, Shigeru had ever seen.

 “Shigeru-chan isn’t hungry, apparently,” Oikawa said, and nudged the plate towards Ishigawa. “Choose whichever one you’d like and let Waitress-chan take your drinks order.”

She took her time, fingers hovering over each delicacy until finally selecting a slice of strawberry shortcake. Hanamaki picked up a crème puff and, not bothering with a plate or a pastry fork, took a deep bite letting the cream ooze out of the sides.

“Table manners have not improved,” Oikawa reproached and handed him a napkin.

“Shug – uck,” Hanamaki mumbled, his mouth full of cake. He chewed then swallowed, licking the cream off his lips. “Gah, these good.”

“We can tell,” Oikawa replied.

Grinning, Hanamaki licked his lips. “Would you trust a chef who didn’t enjoy food, Ishigawa-chan?  Nope, neither would I?”

She giggled a little at that, and put a forkful of cake into her mouth. “This is very kind of you, Oikawa-san.”

“Hmm, well, I do have an ulterior motive,” he replied. “I have to apologise to you, Ishigawa-chan, because I gave my kouhai an inkling of an idea, and although he exaggerated it somewhat, it was my fault initially.”

“Uh... no...” Shigeru interrupted and held his hand up to silence Oikawa further. “Please, this is all my fault and I _am_ sorry I hurt your feelings in any way at all, Ishigawa-san.”

Placing her fork back on the plate, she met his gaze, chips of ice glinting in her eyes. “You told lies about me. You made out that I’d been hassling you like a stalker!”

“Yes, I know and I’m really sorry. I hadn’t meant to. And ... uh ...” He glanced at Oikawa, remembering their earlier conversation. “It was only to Kyoutani. I honestly haven’t said anything to anyone else.”

_Please believe me. I’m not that much of a jerk._

She took her time, prodding at her shortcake, but for all her glaring, she looked mollified – at least a little. “ _All_ I wanted to do was recruit people to the cheer squad. That was the only reason I spoke to you in the first place, Yahaba, because I _loved_ watching the team and then after Oikawa-san left, I didn’t want that support to drop.”

“Don’t say that!” Hanamaki groaned, putting down his crème puff. “Oikawa’s head’s big enough as it is.”

Raising her eyebrows at Hanamaki, Ishigawa cut off his protest. She was confident with him, Shigeru thought, unlike her deferential manner towards Oikawa and her innate shyness whenever she’d spoken to him, but he supposed this was a consequence of her brother being friends with Hanamaki, too.

Seizing his chance, Shigeru leapt into the conversation gap. “And I really do appreciate that, Ishigawa-san. I know I’m never going to be as popular as Oikawa-san-”

“Stop that. He’s preening!” cried Hanamaki, throwing his napkin at Oikawa.

“So having a cheer squad is going to be even more important, and I’m not sure we can recruit without your help,” he ploughed on. And then he took a gulp of his coffee as he let his words sink in, before narrowing his eyes. “Having said that, the girls that were here on Saturday are the kind of support we can do without.”

_Even if Kyoutani doesn’t return,_ he didn’t add.

“That was why I wanted to speak to you on Sunday,” she muttered, her cheeks reddening. “I had no idea what they were like.”

He straightened up, forcing his shoulders down as the embers began to flare inside of him. “Good, because I want to build a team that Aobajousai High can be proud of. But equally I want to have support we can be proud of. Those girls were not only bullies but bigots and Kyoutani has the team’s full support.”

 “If he comes back,” murmured Hanamaki.

“Well, yes, there is that,” Shigeru sighed. “I don’t suppose you could talk to him, could you, Hanamaki-san? Or you, Oikawa-san?”

“Don’t think we haven’t tried,” Oikawa said. “But he’s not replied to any texts and his phone rings out.”

Demolishing the rest of his crème puff, Hanamaki licked his fingers then dabbed his lips with the napkin. “Same here. He must know we know about it all. Thing is, if he isn’t willing to work with the team, there’s not much you can do about it, Captain-kun.”

Ishigawa took another forkful of her strawberry shortcake, her eyes no longer on any of them at the table, but at the ceiling as she considered. “His problem is more to do with you, isn’t it, Yahaba?”

“Uh... well, sort of, I mean it might be,” he muttered, looking at his hands.  He picked at a hangnail until his thumb bled again. “I’m pretty sure he’s blocked me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Shigeru saw Hanamaki reach for another cake, stopping only when Oikawa slapped his hand away.

“We should save some,” he said, then offered the plate back to Shigeru. “Come on, have a cookie at least.”

He was nibbling at the edges of a double chocolate chip cookie when Hanamaki started to talk, his voice carrying a vague inquisitorial tone.

“What I don’t get,” he said slowly. “Is why Mad Dog came back on Sunday? He must have forgiven you enough to come back, even after all the face touching stuff.”

“Uh...” Blushing, Shigeru stared down at the table, but he could feel three pairs of eyes boring into him, the most penetrating of all belonging to Ishigawa.

“And then why he got so pissed at you again?” Hanamaki continued, drumming his fingers out on the table. “He knew the date was fake,” _tap tap_ “and if he believed Ishigawa-chan - which you said he did –” _tappity tap,_ “then he must have figured out that you weren’t deliberately setting him up.”

“It all happened very quickly,” Shigeru jumped in. “He might not have processed Ishigawa-sans apology and ... um ... I’m guessing he still thinks I was laughing at him or something.”

“How did you get him back the first time? Oikawa asked. “Think carefully.”

“I don’t know,” Shigeru said miserably. “I was as surprised as anyone. But he said he wanted to play, and he also said he’d be at practise on Monday. Everything was fine, _absolutely_ fine, until Ishigawa-san appeared and he ... uh ... found out the reason for the fake date was ... um ... fake. That’s when he kicked off.”

“That is odd,” Oikawa’s words fell between them all like pebbles plopping into a pond. “And nothing else happened.”

Hanamaki tried but failed to conceal a smirk. “You didn’t accidentally on purpose do any of that face touching stuff, did you?”

“Uh...”

“Oh.”

“Oooh!” Oikawa began to smile, looking exactly like the Siamese he’d been stroking, slinky and sly. “Tell us all.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Except you were kissing,” Ishigawa interjected.

“No .. I ... We... that’s not ... um ...”

“KISSING!” Oikawa threw his hands in the air. “I knew it! I knew something must have happened. Oh, well, Shigeru-chan, that certainly puts things in a different light.”

Hanamaki snorted. “You really don’t get the concept of fake dating at all, do you? Snogging the life out of the guy when there’s nothing going on – no wonder he’s pissed at ya!”

“Look ... it wasn’t like that. We were talking.”

“That’s what the cool kids call it now,” Oikawa stage-whispered.

“We were,” Shigeru replied, his teeth gritted. “And we’d cleared the air ... ish. I mean we’d decided not to talk about Saturday and the date thing. And then ... I don’t know ... he looked sort of ... um ... sad, and I –”

“You thought some snogging would cheer him up?”

_Oh great! The third wise monkey - that’s all I need._

Wearily Shigeru turned around, lifting his chin right up to see his third senpai towering over him. “Matsukawa-san. You’re here.”

“Naturally. And I bought a friend,” he replied, and gestured across to the counter.

“Watari,” Shigeru said weakly, grateful he was sitting because he felt sure his legs wouldn’t hold him up. “Well, this will be short and sweet-”

“Like Watari,” quipped Hanamaki with a grin at Matsukawa.

“Stop it,” hissed Ishigawa, her voice just a little bit too strained to be natural. She was sucking on her lower lip, her hand twirling a tress of her hair. “I didn’t know Watari-san would be here.”

“I _mean_ it will be short and sweet because he’s not talking to me!” Shigeru snapped, annoyed that the conversation was meandering yet again.

“Ah, but he’ll listen,” Matsukawa assured him as he sat down, folding his long legs under the table. His gaze flickered to Ishigawa, he moved his chair away from her leaving a space, and all the while, a lazy smile played upon his face.  “Watari-kun, order extra cream on mine, will ya?”

“Yes, Matsukawa-san. I ... uh ...”

Shigeru watched him nod peremptorily and then he faltered, his eyes catching sight of the fifth person in the group. Flicking away from Ishigawa, he then turned his attention to Shigeru, a resigned but still pissed off expression ingrained on his features.

_This is gonna go well then._

“Don’t you even _think_ about moving, kouhai,” Oikawa ordered. “Watacchi is _just_ as important to Seijou as Kyoutani. More so, even, and you can’t avoid him.”

“I’m not. I just think it would be better if-”

“I wasn’t here?” Watari queried waspishly.

Pushing his tongue into his bottom lip, not caring that he must have looked like a bratty ten year old, Shigeru waited for Watari to sit down (self-consciously shuffling his chair forwards so he didn’t brush against Ishigawa) before he spoke. “ _If_ we could talk this out without an audience,” he said finally, adding before Oikawa complained, “Look, I’ve apologised to Ishigawa-san, and I’ll say sorry to you as well if that’s what you want. I suppose I should have told you what was going on with Kyoutani, but it all got too complicated and I ...” He trailed off, staring at Watari waiting for his reaction, but when that wasn’t forthcoming, and Watari merely sipped at his coffee, something inside Shigeru started to fray as if it were three Thursday practices rolled into one.

“You know, I wanted to have it out with him, but _none_ of you thought it was a good idea. Not even you, Shinji.”

“Me, what did I do?” he asked, indignant.

“I said he’d been funny since I’d ... uh ... come out.” (He blushed a little at that, but then Ishigawa-san had caught him kissing so it was hardly a surprise.) “I said I wanted to clear the air, but you said it was better to forget about it.”

“No-oo... Oh ... did I?” Putting down his coffee, Watari looked up and to the right, clearly trying to recall the conversation. His face cleared and his lips began to twitch. “Um, I think we kind of got our wires crossed, Shigeru-kun. I ... uh ... thought you were talking about that time you threatened him during the Karasuno match.” He reddened and mouthed a sorry as Oikawa, Hanamaki and Matsukawa stiffened at the mention of their rivals.

“No... Why would I? I meant that he’d been off with me since I came out to the team.”

Snorting, Watari sipped more of his coffee, then when Oikawa pushed the cakes towards him, he picked up an apricot Danish. “I didn’t even think he _was_ offhand with you – at least not any more than he is with the rest of us. He’s Kyoutani Kentarou. He’s never been the most social of guys, but he didn’t suddenly change because you ‘came out’,” he said, using his fingers as quote marks in the air.

“Why the gesture?” Shigeru said, scowling.

“Because as we said,” Matsukawa drawled. “It wasn’t a shock to anyone that you were gay.”

“It was only the first years who were the slightest bit surprised,” Watari informed them all. “And that was because it was their first day. I was sitting with Kyoutani, and if he’d had a problem, I think I’d have known – he doesn’t exactly disguise when he’s pissed off, does he?” He munched some more of his pastry, his eyes sliding to the right then smiling when Ishigawa met  his gaze. “I don’t actually believe he was off with you at all.”

“But he is now,” Oikawa said, “and we must all put our heads together and work out what to do. Including you, Ishigawa-chan, because I’m sure you’ll have some excellent ideas.”

“Um...” Fiddling with her hair again, she turned a rather sweet smile on Oikawa, before speaking to them all. “I don’t know how I can help, but ... uh ... obviously I will try.”

“You’re probably the only person he’d talk to, anyway,” Shigeru sighed. The cookie was unswallowable in his drying mouth, so he gulped at his coffee.

“He’s not answering me, either,” Watari said gloomily. “But we have to do something. Irihata-sensei will bar him from the club if he misses another session. I don’t think he’s buying the family emergency excuse.”

Huffing out a breath, Shigeru drained his cup. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Break into the school offices and find his address,” Hanamaki suggested. His eyes were glittering as he eyed a chocolate éclair. “I’ll stand on Issei’s shoulders, and we’ll hoist Ishigawa-san through the window. Oikawa can act as lookout and make use of his whistling technique. You and Watacchi can distract anyone that turns up by flirting. Or throwing volleyballs, which is kind of the same thing to you, eh, Captain-kun?”

He didn’t have a chance to react.

“Then we’ll storm round there and drag him to practise,” Matsukawa finished, his shoulders shaking with a fit of laughter. “We could even insist he stays with us, or ... better idea, he stays with Oikawa in his posh house. Then he won’t think of it as prison. And he’ll be so wound up and irritated living with Oikawa, he’ll agree to anything.”

“ _Sensible_ suggestions!” Oikawa said, quelling the pair of them with one of his ‘looks’. (It was a look he could rarely pull off when not on court, that scary intensity and utter focus reminding them all how powerful he was.) “And why would he hate living with me so much?”

“Oh, C’mooooon. After the fifth ‘Mad Dog-chaaaaan’ he’ll punch your lights out,” Hanamaki replied, one side of his mouth tugging upwards.

“Short of scouring the Prefecture for any sign of him, then I have no idea,” Watari said.

“How about his other friends?” Ishigawa asked, nibbling some more of her shortcake. “Maybe they’d help.”

_Friends. Did he have any?_ Shigeru locked looks with Watari, knowing he was wondering the same thing, and also realising the pair of them felt guilty about how little they knew about their teammate.

He felt before he saw Hanamaki’s fingers flicking his ear, and watched as Matsukawa inflicted the same punishment on Watari.

“Neither of ‘em have any idea,” Hanamaki said, and before Oikawa could object he picked up the éclair, cut it in two and gulped one half down in one go.

But there was a picture in his head now. Kyoutani in the corridors, bowling along to his lessons.  He’d never been with anyone, and hadn’t joined any other clubs since ducking out of volleyball in his first year.  “It’s _not_ that I don’t know,” he said. “He’s always by himself,  even when I’d pass him in corridors. It’s been different since he came back because he sometimes eats lunch with us, well near us, but ...”

He shot a glance at Watari, who nodded his agreement before taking up the story. “He’s a loner. We do try with him, you know. We’ve asked him out after practice, but he usually scoots off home.”

“I think I found out more about him in that one hour on Saturday than in two years,” Shigeru continued. “And yes, I feel shit about that because I am captain and I should know my team, but I can’t change that now.”

“The only person he ever properly talked to at the club was Iwaizumi-san,” Watari finished. Biting his lip, he turned slightly to look at Oikawa. “Is he ... um ... around?”

“Coming tomorrow,” Oikawa murmured and pulled out his phone. “It _is_ possible he knows his address but he’s muted his phone because Iwaizumi-Obaasan complained that it kept going off all the time and the ringtone annoyed her.” He rolled his eyes.

“Or he’s just avoiding you,” Matsukawa said, supposedly under his breath, but loud enough for Oikawa to hear. He raised and dropped his eyebrows, smirking as he added, “Four days away from Oikawa must feel like a four month vacation.”

“If you mean because he misses me so much more, then yes,” Oikawa snapped, and began to fiddle with his mobile. “And you do know that when you _actually_ waggle your eyebrows you look incredibly stupid.”

“What’s wrong with his ringtone?” Shigeru jumped in before an eyebrow waggling contest began. Ishigawa was already giving his senpais very odd looks, although Watari was leaning back on his chair, unsurprised at how quickly the tone had descended.

Oikawa smirked. “I might possibly have changed it. It was supposed to remind him of me.”

“Blank Space?” Hanamaki suggested.

“Ha ha – I _don’t_ think. Ah ... great, it’s ringing.  Shhh, because if he answers, the reception’s terrible and –”

_‘Too hot, hot damn, call the police and the fireman. Too Hot, hot damn’_

 “Agh!  I can hear it clear ... It’s-“ Oikawa shot up from his seat, his head whipping from right to left, the phone still clamped to his ear.

‘Too hot, hot damn, call the police and the fireman. Too hot.’

“Hot fucking damn!” someone growled.

They all turned, not just because the song ringtone was annoying the whole cafe, but because the voice leaping towards them was so familiar. To Shigeru’s relief, because he was beginning to think this whole thing was some kind of hallucination brought on by the sight of too many cakes and cats, his last, and most sensible, senpai was striding towards them, his phone still ringing.

“IWA-CHAN!” shrieked Oikawa, trying to extract himself from the chair and the rather cramped table. “YOU’RE BACK!” He fell forwards, and his phone slipped out of his hand and into his half drunk very foamy coffee. “Oh dammit!”

“Butterfingers,” laughed Hanamaki.

 “Coffee fingers, you mean,” Matsukawa joked. He got up, a wide, and very genuine smile in place, and no sign of sarcasm. “Great to see you, Hajime!”

“What are you doing here, though?” Oikawa said, recovering his phone and wrapping it up in napkins.

“Tomorrow’s coach was overbooked, so I got an earlier one.” He smiled, the effect completely obliterating his frown, and suddenly everyone at the table was smiling back. “Thought I’d surprise you all.”

“But how did you know we were here?” Oikawa asked. “Oh, and help yourself to a cake or cookie.”

“Cheers.” He leant over Watari’s shoulder, giving his a soft cuff on the back of the head and selected a cookie, completely missing the soft pinkening of Watari’s cheeks at the contact. “Mmm, these are good.”

“So, are you being enigmatic, or have you installed a tracker on Tooru’s phone?” Hanamaki asked.

“Nope. I can read,” Iwaizumi replied. “Not only that but I can scroll back on every chat you’ve included me on.”  He finished the biscuit, then stepping to the side, he addressed Shigeru for the first time. “You are a dumbass, Yahaba.”

Not quite the greeting he’d hoped for, but deserved.  “I know,” he said miserably, “but I want to make things right and Oikawa-san was trying to get in touch with you so we could get hold of Kyoutani’s address because Watari and I really need to get to see him before tomorrow’s match, or else Irihata-sensei will deselect him and-” He took a breath. “Please help, Iwaizumi-san. Kyoutani will listen to you.”

“I’m not sure I want to. From his perspective, it _is_ fishy. You invite him here and he gets catcalled in a fucking cat cafe, and by girls who are part of the new cheer squad. No wonder he was pissed at you!”

“But it wasn’t like that. I got caught up in it, but he knew it was a fake date, just ... uh ... didn’t know the reason for it was fake, too.” He smiled as he creased his brow, hoping he looked bemused and helpless. “It all got a bit confusing.”

“My heart bleeds,” Iwaizumi said. And now he wasn’t smiling and Shigeru could tell exactly where his sympathies lay. “Fake dating, I ask you. Only someone as fucking dumb as Oikawa would suggest that.”

“Hey! It worked with us!” Oikawa protested.

“What are you wittering on about now?” he scorned.

“I once told people we were going out together, and then I’d take your hand when we went to the shops. It worked very well and no one tried to poach you after that. The baseball gang were really miffed, you know.”

“Baseball gang? I haven’t played since ...” Iwaizumi stopped mid crunch of his biscuit and shook his head in disbelief. “We were _eleven_ , for fuck’s sake. Ughh, that’s why you grabbed me whenever someone came along!

“Anyway, it was a stupid idea, Yahaba-kun, I hope you realise that now.”

“I do, but ... um ...everyone else seemed to think it was fine. At least in theory.”

“You mean Salt and Saltier, here,” he replied, jerking his thumb towards Matsukawa and Hanamaki. “Please, Yahaba, don’t make life plans based on their advice, or you’ll end up speaking in puns and snorting cream cakes.” Grabbing a chair from the other table, he squeezed between Hanamaki and Shigeru and finished his cookie. “What you should have done is talked to him.”

“And risk him thinking I thought he was homophobic?”

Clicking his tongue, he soft punched Shigeru’s arm. “You could have just asked him if he was okay – not with you, but if he was okay in himself then got to know him a little better.”

_I know. I know. I know._

Letting the silence carry his words, Iwaizumi fiddled a little with his phone, and such was his presence, no one else said anything either, the only sounds the occasional sip of coffee, and Watari finishing his pastry.

“I got carried away. But it was working,” Shigeru insisted. “I made out that he was the only one I could ask, and I think he liked that. You know, it was to boost his self-esteem, show him he was important and could be trusted.”

“Yeah, well, that’s obviously not how he saw it,” Iwaizumi replied.

“Iwaizumi-san?”

“Yes, Watari-kun,” he replied as he looked up.

“Do you know Kyoutani’s address?”

“I do,” he replied, and helped himself to the other half of Hanamaki’s éclair, “but I’m not going to share it.”

“Please?” Shigeru asked. “I really need to make amends. There’s some other stuff that you don’t know about, and I’ve got to talk it through with him.”

The waitress came back, handing out the drinks and engaging in conversation with Ishigawa, who was clearly a regular. At that point, seeing they were distracted, Iwaizumi stopped eating, and twisted his head around until he was side on the table, his mouth close to Shigeru’s ear.  “You mean him kissing you, or you kissing him?” he whispered, his lips barely moving.

He felt his jaw drop open, and wondered how no one else had noticed, but with a quick flit at the table, he realised none had overheard, all intent on their own conversations. “H-how do you know about that, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only one who talks to his senpais. Kyoutani just doesn’t share whatever’s bothering him with multiple people.”

He was still gaping, and then the light bulb went off in his head. “Did you persuade him to come back on Sunday?”  he asked a little louder.

“Yup, though he wanted to really,” Iwaizumi replied. “He was embarrassed and thought he’d over reacted. I wasn’t sure I blamed him, to be honest, but I did say if he still wanted to play, he had to just get through it.”

“It was working,” Shigeru said. “Then I blew it.”

“Bad timing, that’s all. You couldn’t have known Ishigawa would turn up, but ... uh ... not your greatest move, even if you do mean it. Kyoutani ... well, you know him, he finds connections difficult. He _expects_ a battle, not empathy.” He narrowed his eyes a little. “Did you mean it?”

“Um...” He swallowed and cast a nervous look around the table, but apart from Oikawa who was starting to look over with suspicion, everyone else appeared to be engaged in their own conversations. “I don’t know. Look, I know you don’t want to break a confidence and I respect that, Iwaizumi-san, really I do, but I have to talk to him.”

“For the team?”

“I’d be lying if I said no, but it’s also ...” He sighed feeling the weight of the past few days dragging on his shoulders, the molten lead of responsibility that had immersed him now hardening like a band around his chest. “I understand him a bit better now. Like I get why he walked out the first time, and ... uh ... I kind of feel guilty that I didn’t make any attempt to get to know him before.”

Iwaizumi stared at him. Across the table, Oikawa eyed him too, and although he’d kept his voice low, he had this feeling his former captain had somehow heard every word. But he wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t in mockery mode as he leant across the table and brushed his fingertips lightly on Shigeru’s hand.

“You know, I might have been the one who encouraged Kyoutani to come back, but it was Iwaizumi-san who persuaded him to stay, so if you need advice, you should listen to him. He’s usually right.”

Shigeru sniffed. There was a heat behind his eyes, a dam of tears, futile tears because unless he could actually talk this through, to see Kyoutani face to face before tomorrow, then all of this soul-searching and effort was for nothing.

“Please, Iwaizumi-senpai. Please talk to him for me, tell him what I’ve said, give me his address, or set up a meeting so we can talk this out.”

“Yahaba-kun, it’s not as simple as that. I have -” Iwaizumi broke off then, after exchanging a look with Oikawa, he heaved in a breath. “I was supposed to meet him, and then the plan was to come here, but he didn’t turn up.”

And that was that. If Iwaizumi-san couldn’t get Kyoutani to listen, then no one could.

 

A cat was mewing from one of the window ledges. As it was a cat cafe, that in itself should not have been surprising, but the cat wasn’t only mewing, but patting the glass with its paw as it played a game with a stranger on the outside. It wasn’t any old cat. It was a grey cat, a furball with blue eyes and an immediate liking for a challenge. Kiri leapt at the window, chasing a hand as it tapped on the pane.  And it wasn’t a stranger either. Hardly daring to look, Shigeru nonetheless raised his chin and found himself meeting a pair of brown eyes delineated in thick black.

“He’s here. He won’t want to see everyone,” Shigeru said, rising abruptly from the table.

“You’ve got that right,” Iwaizumi muttered, and flashed him a brief smile.

“Good luck,” Oikawa whispered.

With barely a back glance, just a vague ‘I’ll text you’ to Watari, Shigeru strode towards the cafe door. His hand on the handle, he was about to open it, when the door gave, and there, one foot on the pavement, one on the threshold, stood Kyoutani.

He growled something – probably an automatic response to seeing Shigeru – and then shifted to the side.

“Don’t let me keep you.”

Hackles he didn’t know existed rose at the words, and although he’d meant to keep anything he said placatory, Shigeru snapped, “I’m not leaving. I thought you’d appreciate not battling this out in front of our senpais and Watari, okay?”

It was amazing how Kyoutani’s scowl could get any deeper, and yet, he looked so ferocious it was as if his entire forehead had sunk over his eyes.

“I’m not scared. Not of that lot.”

“Yeah, I know, but ... look... Kyoutani, I took advice from half of them sat there, and it fucked things up, didn’t it. Please, I want to talk. And ... uh ... you’re here.” Hearing a purr, he looked down at his feet to where Kiri had was winding his way around Kyoutani’s legs. “And I don’t think you came here just for the cat, did you.”

“Okay. But not here,” he mumbled.

“Agreed. Let’s walk.

Shigeru didn’t have a particular plan or route in mind, and he wasn’t sure Kyoutani had either, but they walked side by side, in an awkward sort of silence down the street until they reached the place where it had all blown up three days before. There was a low wall outside a shop, the type of wall where kids would sit around and hang out, where the shop owner would yell at them for causing a ruckus, but Shigeru stopped there all the same, half hitching his arse on the top.

With legs crossed at the ankles, and shoving his hands in his pockets, Shigeru thought better of smiling, pretty sure Kyoutani wouldn’t believe he was sincere, and instead went for the direct approach – something he knew he should have done from the start instead of embroidering to watch it all unpick to rags around him.

“I’m an idiot,” he said. “And I need to apologise. Okay, so I don’t actually expect you to believe me after everything that’s happened, but I genuinely had no idea about those girls.”

“Yeah, so Iwaizumi-san said,” Kyoutani replied, adding bluntly, “ _He_ tells me the truth.”

He winced. _I deserved that._

“Gonna tell me why you thought you had to go to all this trouble?”

 “It was something dumb, that’s all. Not impor -” He saw the resignation in Kyoutani’s eyes, the realisation that he was being metaphorically patted on the head again. “Okay, here’s the truth. I thought you’d been off with me since I came out. And ... uh ... I was worried you were going to quit.”

“So you came up with the date thing ‘cause of that,” he said, his voice flat and gruff.

“Kind of.  It was Oikawa-san’s idea. I was supposed to ask you out on a fake date, see your reaction, and then make an excuse.”

“You couldn’t just ask me if I had a problem?  Nah, ‘course not.” He sniffed loudly, inhaling through his nose as he jerked his head up, staring at the sky. “What, you reckoned I’d walk out, or punch you if we talked? Was that it?”

“I don’t know what I thought. I went along with the dumb fake date thing because then I didn’t _have_ to think or deal with any of it. And it just kind of ... spiralled. Before I knew it, we were outside that cafe and I was still wracking my brains to think of a reason why we shouldn’t  have coffee together.” He shook his head. “There wasn’t a reason – that was the thing. I should have just asked you out for a coffee anyway, but I’d labelled it a date – sort of – and that’s why it was awkward.”

Scuffing the wall with his heel and leaving a sprinkle of brick dust on the pavement, Kyoutani hoisted himself up on the wall ledge, still apart from Shigeru, but there and not leaving. Listening, Shigeru hoped.

“I’m not very good at coming to the point,” he continued. “I can talk for Japan, but I’m not like Oikawa-san, able to focus on the problem and work out the solution. And I’m not like Iwaizumi-san, able to deal with the issues effectively. I’m ...”

“You’re you. I’m me,” Kyoutani muttered. “We’re not _them_.”

“I didn’t say we were.”

“Nah, you just want to be some kind of hybrid. Their love-child, maybe?” he said, so deadpan, Shigeru couldn’t be sure if it was mockery or anger driving the words.

“I’d like their skills at dealing with people!” he said, stung on his senpais behalf. “Iwaizumi’s blunt, to the point approach worked miracles on you!”

Kyoutani shrugged. “Seems to me, _Captain,_ that you’re pretty good at getting to the point when you have to.”

“Huh?”

“Match against Karasuno – you didn’t have a problem when you held me against a wall and threatened to ... uh ... whatever you threatened.” He huffed a little. “There was me thinking you were this shallow twat and you showed you actually cared.”

“Of course I _care_.”

“Yeah, well, I’d not seen it before then. You’d always irritated me. You were like some Oikawa shadow, always desperate for him to notice you.”

The words, although said gruffly, lashed like a whip. The reproof obvious: Yahaba Shigeru was a lightweight, who couldn’t take anything seriously.

“I always cared,” he repeated, calm, determined to prove him wrong. “But it was safer to hide that, I guess, because I was never going to be another Oikawa, so what was the point in showing what I felt and have everyone laugh.”

“And you wouldn’t like that. Nah, course not.”

A group of mums walked past, all with pushchairs, chattering away and barely giving them a second glance. Kyoutani’s eyes followed, focusing in on a toddler, squirming in his buggy and giggling at his mum.

_His brother was born just before he started at High School. Was that a problem?_

“I can’t even begin to understand what you’ve gone through-” Shigeru began.

“Yeah, well, as I said, eleven months to go, and I’m done. Two months for summer, week at new year, and that makes it under nine months.” Brooding, he watched the mums as they clattered their way towards the cafe. “Counting the days.”

“Then what?”

“Well, I sure as hell ain’t bright enough for college,” he replied, roughening his accent. “Might work for my uncle.”

“And volleyball?”

“Think I’ve blown that out the fucking park.”

His hand was gripping the wall, knuckles white, and a pugnacious jut to his chin as the words spat from his lips.

_So angry. Always so very angry._

“That’s what you want, is it?”Shigeru asked and inched his hand closer. “Ticking off days until you’re free of _them_?”

“Why not?  I’d leave earlier if my mum would let me. Get a job, earn my own money, get a place.”

“Get a dog?”

He smiled very faintly. “Yeah, maybe,”  he said, relaxing. As he inhaled, his hand unclenched, and his little finger brushed Shigeru’s wrist.

_Okay, act on this._ Shigeru stretched out his finger, nudging Kyoutani, and when he looked across, he held his gaze. “Days would go quicker if you came back,” he said softly. “And who knows what could happen? College scouts turn up to matches. Isn’t that how they spotted Matsukawa-san?”

“Stop. I’ve blown it. Good dream while it lasted, but I was fucking dumb to ever think it possible.”

“Come back,” Shigeru whispered, bending his head closer.

“For the team?”

“Well, yeah, that goes without saying, but ... uh ... for you, too.” He rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I know that sounds cheesy, but you said things got better for you when you came back.”

“Too late now. I was on a last chance already – Irihata-sensei made that blindingly clear at the start of this year. Skipping three days   - I’m finished.”

“I made an excuse for you.”

“Uh ... what?  Why?”

“Um, because I know you skipped because of me. It is my fault you got angry, and I should have just been straight with you and not played this stupid game.”

“You calling volleyball stupid?”

“Ha ha,” Shigeru said. Inwardly his stomach had started to flit up and down because Kyoutani joking, Kyoutani giving a brief smile, Kyoutani unfurling his frown, was a bigger step towards reconciliation than he could have imagined. “So, will you come back?”

“Maybe.”  He moved his hand, dropping it into his lap with the other and stared across the road. “I think too much has happened, though.”

“Nah, Irihata-sensei will be cool. Okay, he’ll get Mizoguchi to give you a hard time, but he wants you on the team. You’re our Ace, Kyoutani. We should be building the team around you.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” muttered Kyoutani. And then he exhaled as he levered himself off the wall, the hunch back in his shoulders. “I didn’t mean with Coach-san, anyway.”

“Sorry?”

“You and me,” Kyoutani explained, folding his arms across his chest, not like a teacher or a parent, but hugging himself tight. “I’m sorry, all right.”

“Uh ... why are _you_ apologising? It was me that acted on this whole dumb fake date.”

As if he hadn’t heard, Kyoutani continued to speak. “I get why you did it. Iwaizumi-san explained. He told me about the chat with the senpais, and I guess it makes a difference. Still wish you hadn’t, but ... uh ... I realise you were just trying to sort things out for the team.”

 “For us, as well,” Shigeru said and jumped off the wall. He stood facing Kyoutani, watching as the boy opposite shuffled his feet on the ground, not quite able to keep eye contact. “Watari got it right, you know. He said if you’d had a problem with me, you’d have reacted. I should have known that, but I’m ... I’m so caught up with the fact that I’m ‘Captain’, that sometimes I forget to be one, you know?”

“Nah, you’re decent enough. Sorry, “ he repeated.

“I don’t get what you’re sorry about?”

Shaking his head. Kyoutani let out a deep sigh. “Kissing you. I shouldn’t have done that. It was ... I can’t explain. I was just so wound up and you were there and –”

“You told me to figure it out. Added a ‘fuckwit’ too,” Shigeru replied. He smiled, a little sadly. “I worked it out, and I wanted to apologise on Sunday, but ... well ... you didn’t want to talk about it, so ...” Kicking a pebble, he watched it skim across the pavement and into the road. “It was like a match in that cafe. The girls were ... dunno ... they were worse that Shiratorizawa and Karasuno combined. Absolutely relentless, and you only had one player on your side, and then I opened up our side of the court – that’s what I realised.”

“Yeah, well, they’ll always find something.”

“I didn’t listen to you. I made you stay. I engaged with them. I made it obvious why we were there, even if we weren’t actually on a date.” He stepped closer, baby steps. “I understand why you were so angry.  Surprised you didn’t whack me, to be honest.”

“Thought about it,” he mumbled. “Because... fuck it, Yahaba, I felt so humiliated in there. You know what that’s like? At all? And what made it worse was that now it was carrying on in front of someone who had no fucking idea. I’d kept it all separate, see? I could kind of block it out when I played, or at practise.” He started to laugh, the sound raw and full of pain. “There’s nothing like slamming down a spike to deafen that shout of ‘Loser’.”

He sniffed. “I dunno why I did it, but maybe I wanted to humiliate you.”

Toeing his trainer in the ground, Shigeru traced a circle in the dust. “Why would that humiliate me?”

“Yeah right. Look at us, Yahaba-kun. You’re so fucking clean-cut, it’s like you’re made of crystal glass.  And I’m ‘Mad Dog-chan’, a fucking double-edged sword, who ripped our team apart.”

“Seijou’s too strong to tear,” Shigeru soothed. “You shake us up. Just what we need when we play unpredictable teams.”

“We lost.”

“They got lucky. It happens. _You_ were amazing,” Shigeru assured him. “And pretty cool, too.”

“Why did you kiss me?” Kyoutani rasped.

He looked ... small... unsure ... the downturn of his eyes, and the droop of his mouth rendering the mask of makeup less scary rather than more. But although the change of subject shook Shigeru, he quickly recovered.

“I dunno. I wanted to know what it would feel like without any anger. If maybe you’d kissed me for something more.  And that wasn’t ...  I mean it wasn’t the greatest of places near the garbage bins, but it wasn’t to humiliate you. If that’s bothering you, I can easily forget it happened. I won’t mention it again.”

“So how _did_ it feel?” the question sounded odd and Kyoutani’s hand flew to his mouth as if he couldn’t believe what he’d asked.

_Smooth,_ he thought, remembering the feel of Kyoutani’s cheek against his lips.  _Exciting._ He’d smelt of fresh sweat and the pineapple popsicle his sister had bought. _Nerve-wracking_.

“Warm,” he settled for. “And brief. It was what, a second at the most.”

“Like a grandma kiss?”

“Not exactly.”

“And if Ishigawa-san hadn’t appeared, then what then?”

He was watching Shigeru, his eyes trained only on his face, and Shigeru knew what was going in his head, knew how pivotal this moment was. And maybe for the team, he should have laughed it off. But maybe for himself –and for Kyoutani – he needed to be truthful. One footstep closer, and although this was out in public, and who knew who was walking past, Shigeru reached out and linked his fingers into Kyoutani’s hand.

“I’d have kissed you properly – if you’d let me.” He coughed. “Well, I’m not sure about properly. I don’t exactly have much experience.”

“Really?”

 “Yeah ... really,” he mumbled, adding, “Lot of practise on my pillow. Anyway, I wouldn’t be ashamed being seen with someone _like_ you.” He squeezed Kyoutani’s hand, suddenly light because Kyoutani hadn’t let go. “Or with the actual you, even.”

Kyoutani’s cheeks had started to flush, a wave of red, ridging across the centre of his face, but although he cast his head down, he peeped up at Shigeru from beneath his spiky lashes.

“This could really fuck with team dynamics, Yahaba-kun.”

_More like a Seijou tradition_ , he thought, but swapped that opinion for...

“Or it could make them. Fancy ... uh ... talking this over?”

His blush had deepened. “Not the cafe. I really can’t face the senpais.”

“Me either,” Shigeru let out a small laugh. “I kinda think I’ll stick to asking match advice and that’s all.”

***

After a bollocking from Mizoguchi on Wednesday morning, which Kyoutani took stoically, his shoulders straight, chin up and no hint of a frown, he was allowed back in the club. And despite Irihata not exactly welcoming him with open arms, but ones that were folded across chests and a grudging nod, it was Kyoutani who slammed down the last spike against Wakatun.  Both sides were raw, unformed, and not near their peaks, but there was an excitement in the ranks, and a hubbub in the sparse crowd watching.

“Go, Go, Kentarou!”

“Push it, push it, Seijou!”

“Mad Dog- chaaaaaan,” rang one voice louder than the rest.

“He means it affectionately, you know,” Shigeru said, and feeling bold after the victory, he ruffled Kyoutani’s fuzz of hair, laughing when he ducked away. “It’s Oikawa-san’s way of dealing with a potential threat, I guess.”

“Threat, me?” Kyoutani peeked up, noted their senpais, and raised his hand to them.

“Oh, come on, you came from Junior High with an amazing reputation and until he worked out how to use you, he needed a way to fix you in his mind,” said Watari from the other side. He grinned, his smile wide and welcoming, high on the victory. “Matsukawa-san told me this when I first joined. Remember I’d been a Setter?  It’s why he calls me Watacchi.”

“Shigeru-chan! Watacchi!  Mad Dog-chaaaaan!”

“Hell, they’ve all joined in,” Shigeru sighed, with one eye on another – less partisan – part of the crowd. “I’ll tell them to stop before it spreads.”

Kyoutani said nothing, but stared at his senpais, hopefully seeing what Shigeru could – four allies, happy they’d won, eager to give advice, even when unwanted. The he let his attention flicker to another group, one headed by a girl with blue and blonde streaks in her hair, whose presence here was more, Shigeru thought, because of Oikawa’s presence than any desire to support the team.

“S’fine. I’m cool with it,” he said a moment later.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He clapped his arms around both Shigeru and Watari and gave an odd sort of grimace that could have been a smile. “Watch this.”

Releasing them both, he changed his stance, cupped his hands to his mouth and let out a howl, stopping only briefly for their fans to pick up on the evolution of a new chant, until all that could be heard were howls echoing around the gym.

Loser turned winner, roaring his worth for all to see and hear.

“He’s biting back in the best way possible,” Watari said, pulling on Shigeru’s arm.  “Look, I’m going to say thank you to them for coming, but then I’m shooting off.”

“Not coming out with us?”

“Make my excuses, will you? I’ve ... uh ... got a date,” he replied, and turning slightly he waved and smiled at their head cheerleader in another part of the stand, surrounded by a gaggle of girls. Cheering girls, unfamiliar but clearly enjoying themselves. “See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure, have fun!”

Watching Watari bound across to receive a slap on the back and a few words of what was no doubt conflicting advice from them all, Shigeru sauntered to the changing room, following his team.  Job well done, a close match, but only because their gears weren’t quite in tune. He was out of sight when a hand slipped in his, and he didn’t protest at all when he was tugged to the left and found himself in a gap between two equipment cupboards.

“That was a fantastic spike,” he said, draping his arms around his Ace’s neck. “Incredible, you know.”

Breathing heavily – not just from the exertion of the match, Shigeru thought - Kyoutani pulled him closer, touching foreheads as he stared into his eyes. His skin was damp, his shirt wet from sweat and the water he’d emptied over himself in celebration, drops glistening on his spiky lashes.  “I don’t want to talk about the game.”

“Mizohito and her friends left pretty sharpish, you know,” said Shigeru. He was unsure why he was making conversation. It wasn’t that the silence was awkward, or that Kyoutani’s proximity was unnerving, more that the anticipation of what this could mean was  dangerously close to causing his knees to buckle under him.

“Really don’t want to talk about _them_ ,” Kyoutani replied softly.

He took a breath. And then, after slowing dragging his teeth across his lower lip, Kyoutani touched his mouth to Shigeru’s. His hands slipped to Shigeru’s waist, drawing him even closer until there was no space between them, except the hair’s breadth between their lips.

Shigeru heard the rasp in his throat as Kyoutani softly plied his mouth apart, letting his tongue slip inside.

His mind in freefall, the ache inside of him only vaguely assuaged by the contact, Shigeru’s fingers began to trace the curve of Kyoutani’s spine, nails pressing through the number four training bib, and he heard a growl when he reached his lower back. The kiss intensified, less celebratory, more urgent, unyielding, harder and yet there was a tenderness in every smudge of lips on lips.

“See Iwa-chan, I knew we’d find them.”

Kyoutani stiffened, his teeth clashing shut. Yahaba persisted, nuzzling with his lips, in what he hoped was a passionate manner. (Not that he knew, but for two days, he’d been refining his technique, and Kyoutani didn’t appear to have any complaints - the practise on his pillow hadn’t been a waste.)

“Leave them alone!”

Squinting a little, Shigeru felt Kyoutani clamp one arm around him, then watched him raise the other and jabbed two of his fingers up as he continued the kiss, not even opening his eyes.

“He’s got _that_ gesture from you, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa replied.

“Then let’s do as Kyoutani-kun wants and fuck off. Sorry, guys, I’ll remove him now.”

“Captains need to talk to their teams, Shigeru-chan,” Oikawa called out. “Doesn’t do to keep the team waiting.”

“Oh the irony, and what’s funnier is you don’t even fucking realise it!” they heard Iwaizumi say, his voice quaking with laughter.

Kyoutani’s shoulders relaxed, but all the same, he broke away. “You should go back,” he said, reluctantly relinquishing him.

“We both should,” Shigeru replied.

“You go. I’ll follow.”

“Why?”

“You’re Captain, and Setter. You’re the centre of the team. I’m still the outsider that no one’s sure is gonna fit.”

Tilting his head to one side, Shigeru didn’t move. Instead he ran one hand over Kyoutani’s hair, resting finally on his cheek. His heart skipped, when Kyoutani pressed his mouth into his palm, adding a light nibble.

“Go on,” he said. “Team needs its captain.”

Shigeru stepped away, moving towards the changing room, but then he looked back, taking in Kyoutani’s wistful expression, and he held out his hand. ““You fit,” he replied.

 

***

**6 th May**

_[19:05]_

**PrettyBoyFucKawa** :  Well this is an instructive trip.  
**MattsunAndDildo:**  Glad I made the journey  
**TwattiMakki:** All that stress and hormones though. I don’t miss that at aaaaaaallllllll.

_[19:07]_

**PrettyBoyFucKawa** : HUH! What’s with this name. Iwa-chan!  
**MattsunAndDildo:** HEY! Makki- wtf have you done  
**TwattiMakki:** Not me!    
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** UGH! I can’t get into settings on mobile.

[19:11]

**PrettyBoyFucKawa:**   I’ll fix it later. It’s not important, not now.  
**MattsunAndDildo:**   Exactly.  Where are we eating?  
**TwattiMakki:** And is Tooru paying?  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** I meant what was important was team harmony and our part in it.  
**MattsunAndDildo:**   yeah  
**TwattiMakki:** That too. **\ (•** **◡** **•) /**

_[19:18]_  
  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** We should celebrate. Are we allowed to join you and Mad Dog, Shigeru-chan?

_[19:22]_

**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** Shigeru-chan?

_[19:26]_

**MattsunAndDildo:**   hey, Captain-kun, are you there?  
**TwattiMakki:** doing some of that face touching, I bet. Yahaba, let Mad Dog breathe!

_[19:30]_

**Yahaba:** Oh ... hi, guys. I don’t have time sorry. Kyoutani and I are ... uh ...

_[19:32]_

**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** We guessed. Give Mad Dog our love.  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** Kyoutani **  
**MattsunAndDildo:** and lots of smooches *waggles eyebrows*  
**TwattiMakki:** Do everything Oikawa wouldn’t do  - that gives you a lot of scope. -smirk-

_[19:35]_

**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** Hey ... was it you who changed our names?  
**Yahaba:** hmm?  
**MattsunAndDildo:** very clever, kouhai. But annoying now.  
**TwattiMakki:** How did you figure out my password?  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** It’s crèmepuff3 everyone knows that.

_[19:39]_

**Yahaba:** I gotta go. Bye.

_[19:41]_

**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** hesg one  (ಥ﹏ಥ)  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** he’s fone **  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** gone**  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:**   (ಥ﹏ಥ)  
**MattsunAndDildo:** *sigh* our favourite kouhai’s all grown up now  
**TwattiMakki:** Favourite apart from Watari  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** Watacchi never needed us. *pouts*

_[19:44]_

**MattsunAndDildo:** Bet you’re actually pouting, aren’t you?  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** I am. It’s sad not feeling needed.  
**MattsunAndDildo:** We’ll find someone who does  
**TwattiMakki:** really soon.  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** OOOOOOH!!!! Kindaichi??  ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:**   I mean ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
**MattsunAndDildo:** And Kunimi-kun.   
**TwattiMakki:** They’re kind of a pair. Can’t split them up.   
**TwattiMakki:** (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** Excellent. Two precious kouhais eager for our advice. Can’t wait.  ~(˘▾˘~)  (~˘▾˘)~ 

_[19:47]_

**BestSenpaiEVAAAA:**  Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.   
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** Iwa-chan!!!!  ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  
**MattsunAndDildo:** HAJIMMMMEEEEEEEEEE!  ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з= ( ▀ ͜͞ʖ▀) =ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿  
**BestSenpaiEVAAAA:** ISSSEEEEIIIIIIIII  
**TwattiMakki:** PUSH IT PUSHI IT HAJIMEEEEE  (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง  
**BestSenpaiEVAAAA:**   TAKAHIIIIIROOOOOOO  
**PrettyBoyFucKawa:** IWAAAA-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAN  
**BestSenpaiEVAAAA:** Yeah, hi.  


_[19:50]_

**TwattiMakki:**  You changed our names, right.  
**BestSenpaiEVAAAA:**     ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

***

“I don’t mind if you want to meet up with them,” Kyoutani said.

Putting his phone down on the table, Shigeru nestled back onto the sofa. Although a week or so ago, he’d have leapt at the chance to have an evening out with his senpais, now he was much more interested in staying in (for more ‘practise’ as he labelled it) especially as his parents were out. “I’m fine and having fun here,” he replied, and edged closer, licking his lower lip in what he hoped was an appealing manner, although it was possible he looked like some kind of demented snake so he stopped.

Oblivious, Kyoutani stared at his hands.“Yeah, I’m ... uh ... just saying that if you’d rather-”

“I don’t. Unless you do.”

Kyoutani shook his head. There was a slight frown on his face, but he stretched out a little more, letting Shigeru’s head flop onto his shoulder. “I don’t ... I’m not good with a lot of people. Kind of feel ... uh ... on the outside most of the time.”

Shigeru lifted his head up and turned side on. “Being on the outside isn’t such a bad thing, you know,” he said and trailed his fingers up Kyoutani’s arm, resting on his shoulder.  “You can get a much longer run up that way.”

He blinked, and shifted a little, a flush suffusing his cheeks. “What?”

“A run up that tears through defences, knocking them sideways,” Shigeru persisted, his voice susurrus. “Utterly unstoppable. The heart of the team.”

“That’s not me.”

“Seijou’s Ace.”

“Yahaba ...”

He leant across, cupped Kyoutani’s face in his hands and smiled at him.

 “My Ace.”

“Dumbass,” Kyoutani mumbled, but his eyes were glistening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, I hope you enjoyed this. It's a present for Jess, but it was a little late for her birthday because it spiralled and then I kept tweaking bits of it.

**Author's Note:**

> A fake date ... what could possibly go wrong?


End file.
